Fragmented Simulations
by The Other Side of Darkness
Summary: A series of incomplete fictional romps. Many started, few completed. All inspired by the smallest of muses and one liners. Please Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-men.

Creme de la Creme

 _There is someone at the gates. A mutant. I cannot get a read on him, but he does not appear to be armed, aside from a knife._

The mental communication from Charles Xavier was sent specifically to Logan, Hank McCoy, and Ororo Munroe. These were the best to handle the initial stages of any encounter, be it hostile or diplomatic. Charles met them at the front door, a young Scott Summers was with him, there for the experience. To see how it was done.

The small group approached the gate. Standing behind it, waving one hand casually was a young man in a black sweater with the hood up to hide his face. He was carrying a green duffel bag over his shoulder and was wearing a pair of desert camo, military fatigues and boots. The sleeve was rolled back on his right arm, showing a series of leather wraps from his wrist up, a pale hand and a golden ring with a large ruby set into it on his middle finger.

Most prominent to Storm, however, was the knife on his left hip. The pommel was made of some kind of bone, or ivory. There were two opals set into the base, carved and painted to make them look like they were entwined. The blade was long and curved.

Ororo had one just like it on a pedestal in her room.

Before Charles could even make an attempt at diplomacy, clouds quickly gathered in the sky, thunder rolled and the woman stalked forward, hands to her sides, crackling with barely restrained electricity.

"There are three people allowed to wield one of those knives in my presence," Storm announced, "Show your face before I decided that you are _not_ one of them."

"No need for the theatrics, luv," the voice came out smooth and decidedly british. The hand with the ring summoned into it a ball of white, visibly cold material, "You should cool your head." He tossed it over the gate.

Wolverine, Logan, moved like lightning, cutting the object in half before it even came close to the woman. His frown turned into one of confusion when he smelled what it was he just cut in half.

"Ice cream?"

Storm halted and blinked in confusion. The clouds receded and a beautiful smile spread across her face.

"Bastard," she said, "Theatrics? Pot meet kettle," she crossed her arms under her bust and said, "Relax, Logan, he's a threat, but not to us. Let him in."

"What?" the gruff man asked.

"To be fair," the man said, his tone amused, "I did ring the bell."

"Who are you?" Scott demanded, regardless of Storm's approval.

The man pulled down his hood revealing a head of untameable black hair, almost glowing green eyes, a lightning bolt scar on his brow, and a lion fang necklace.

"He's my husband," Ororo said, just before embracing him. They did not kiss, or do anything more suggestive, they just held onto one another, enjoying the warmth and smell of one another.

After a solid minute of hugging one another, they separated, though they still held hands.

"My name is Freakshow Munroe," the man said, "My friends and family," here he squeezed Ororo's hand, "call me Harry."

+-9009-+

After an hour or so, in which Harry and Ororo showered together, the group, plus the current students of the institute, were gathered in the kitchen. Harry was cooking while explaining about how he came to activate his powers and how it lead to him meeting Storm.

"Well, it started when I was six, you see," he said, "I lived with my relatives, the Dumples, or something like that. Honestly, I've forgotten. Anyway, one day, my cousin Diddy was getting an ice cream cone and I wasn't allowed to have one. I think I must have been a bad kid when I was that age," the black haired man shrugged, "I was always getting locked in the cupboard under the stairs and sent to bed without that weeks dinner," he ignored the gasps people usually had when he explained these things, "Back to it, Diddy got ice cream and I didn't. I wanted it so bad I wanted to scream. Then, like magic, there was a ball of vanilla and chocolate ice cream the size of my head floating in front of me and my relatives. Best tasting ice cream ever, I tell ya."

"Okay, we have a few, rather serious, questions about some of the stuff you mentioned and about _that_ ," Kitty Pryde said.

'That' was Ororo Munroe, his loving wife sitting at the end of the table closest to the stove, watching him fondly, not even looking at any of the others at the table. She was so intent on taking in everything about her husband that she hardly blinked.

"Ah," Harry smiled, "I'll get to that in a bit.

"So, I had just summoned some ice cream out of thin air, in the middle of a park, and immediately, people started shouting about me being a 'Mutie' and 'Freak'. At the time I had wondered how they knew my name, Freak, but I was rather naive back then. My relatives took me home as soon and as quick as was publicly acceptable and locked me in the cupboard under the stairs, saying I wasn't to make a sound for the next twenty four hours or they would take me to the orphanage. I always thought that would be even worse than staying with the Dumples, so I did my best not to make a sound.

"I did, however, play around with my new power. I discovered some things that I make use of to this day," he gestured with a hand and, right before Wolverine a brown ball of ice cream dropped down gently on his plate. Harry casually tossed a spoon over his shoulder and it landed, tip down, in the top of the ball. "Go ahead," he urged with an audible grin, "Try it."

Wolverine grumbled for a moment, looked to Charles, got a nod from the man, then lifted the spoon to his mouth. To his wonder, the ice cream wasn't sweet at all. It was, in fact, savory. It tasted just like beef jerky.

"I can make, control, flavor and color the stuff however I want. You've never seen a warlord more pissed off than when he wakes up one morning to find out his entire fortress has been covered in quickly melting rotten banana and dead grasshopper flavored ice cream," the teens were rather surprised when this image earned a giggle from Ororo Munroe.

"Back at the Dumples, the next morning, as they let me out to make them breakfast, I darted past Uncle Vroomin and shot out close to two tons of booger flavored ice cream, half burying them. I then ran away, snuck onto a plane and went to Africa. Specifically to Cairo, Egypt."

"So, that's how you and Aunty O met?" Evan, Spike, asked, looking between the two.

"Yep," the man nodded, "I had just made my way out of the airport and into the merchant quarter. I was eating some green apple ice cream and saw the most beautiful woman I had ever seen to that point," Ororo began to blush prettily, "Then this white haired, scrawny street rat runs up and steals her purse."

"Hey!" the normally composed woman almost whined, standing up in a huff and practically striking a pose, "I am _not_ scrawny!"

"No, Luv," Harry said, turning around to rake his eyes lecherously over her well defined body, "You are most certainly not." Once more Ororo blushed and practically melted into her seat from the compliment.

"Gag me with a spoon," Rogue, the gothic mutant girl, groaned.

"So, the most beautiful girl in the world had just robbed the most beautiful woman," the mutant continued, "And she was running right at me. I did the smart thing when seeing a skinny street urchin stealing from an adult," he turned around briefly to wink at the teens, "I pointed out an open alley and covered her tracks as she passed, then distracted the woman."

"What?" came the deadpan response from several teens while Logan snorted in good humor, having finished his jerky flavored treat.

"I didn't trust adults, no matter how pretty," he said by way of explanation before continuing, "After the woman left, I was going to go about my business, but Ororo came and found me to say thanks."

"Really?" asked Kitty.

"Nope, she came to recruit me. A bunch of the orphans in Cairo were part of a group of thieves run by a dick who took ninety percent of everything we earned," he set the pan to simmer and sat down next to Storm, "The more kids we had with us, the more we had for ourselves. I was just another kid to use."

"That's harsh," said Kurt Wagner, a furry blue elf of a teen with prehensile tail. He understood their pain, having been conscripted into service by a German circus.

"Not so much," Harry shrugged, "You wouldn't believe how well ice cream sells in a desert.

"See, I'm pretty quick and agile, but I'm not cut out to be a thief. Two weeks in, the only thing I could get for the trying was a beating. So, one day I'm sitting outside, licking some ice cream, and this teen boy comes up to me and offers ten American dollars for my cold treat. After that, and a chat with the boss, the money poured in, in a slightly less than legal fashion."

"No taxes," Ororo explained simply.

"Made two grand in three days, the boss couldn't be happier," he laid the dagger on the table, "I wont say it was all roses and posies, but it was family. Things happened, some left, some stayed, some became killers, others husbands and wives. These are our only keepsakes of that time," he put the dagger back at his waist, "Well, that and…" he held up his hand, showing a silver wedding band. Storm pulled hers out of her shirt, having held it on a necklace.

"Where have you been, then?" Evan asked, crossing his arms.

"Dealing with a megalomaniacal terrorist intent on committing mass genocide in the land of my birth during a secret war, then tearing down a government based on a thousand years of corruption and old blood money," Harry said with a smile.

"It ended?" Storm asked her husband.

"In all ways. The ruling bodies have been replaced, the laws rewritten, Voldemort was sealed into a stone that we sealed in a black stone case then dropped into the sea with several stealth measures activated," he kissed her hand, "Hermione will be coming to visit in a few weeks. She's a little… gravid at the moment."

Storm's eyes widened for a moment, "She is well then? Who is the father?"

"She's fine, eight and a half months down and nothing is stopping her," Harry laughed, "And their isn't one, technically. It was artificial insemination. She felt that there was no man that she wanted to settle down with, but still wanted a little one of her own to raise and love."

"That sounds more like her than to settle down and be someone's wife," the woman nodded.

"Way, way more questions," Kitty said, processing all of that.

"Let 'er buck, kiddo," the British man said, a jovial grin on his face.

"Okay, why didn't you take Miss- er, Missus Munroe with you when you did… everything?"

"He didn't want me to sink an entire island in a fit of pique, should I have met his relatives," Ororo answered, "He is only truly wise when it is most annoying to be so."

The kids turned to Harry who shrugged, "When she's right why argue?"

"Alright, Bub," Logan said, "So what do you want here?" he held up a hand to forestall any response yet, "Storm's your wife, great. Good on ya. If you two plan on gallivantin' off on a no clothes allowed world tour, it wouldn't be our place to stop you. But I do wanna know what yer doin'. And what you meant when you said he was a threat," the last part he addressed to Storm.

"Well, like I said, I just got done fighting a war. I've seen and done all that that entails. There are things I've done with these hands that are not acceptable to talk about in any circumstance. The only reason I sleep at night is because I think of those I did it to as nothing more than vicious dogs that had to be put down, or made example of. Honestly, the no clothes allowed world tour sounds like a blast and, depending on when the end of the current school year is, we might," he winked at Storm, she blushed but didn't deny him, "So, yeah, I guess we could spar. Tomorrow, though. I haven't slept in a while, so I'm really no good right now."

Later that night, Storm, Ororo Munroe, lay in bed with her husband. The only intimacy they had shared throughout the day had been the shower they had taken together earlier. Even just that moment, as she lay in the bed with her pale skinned spouse, they hadn't engaged in intercourse. Harry hadn't lied when he'd said that he hadn't slept for a while.

When asked, Harry had told his wife that he hadn't slept in a week. He had been too excited to see her again as the political matters came to a close.

"What took so long?" Ororo asked him, holding him against her in a position that seemed oddly reversed. Harry was a small man, only a few inches taller than Logan, while Storm easily breached six foot. As such, it was he that laid against her. Her hands traced slow, loving patterns on his arms, feeling scars, old and new.

"I had to kill the Goblin Leadership. They seemed to think that, since I married a muggle and took her name," he pulled one of her hands to his lip and kissed the finger that now bore his wedding band, "I was no longer entitled to my inheritance. Something about an old law. So, I destroyed the monarchy, made an agreement with the new leaders preventing any other Potters from ever banking with the goblins again, and took my amassed money and heirlooms in a magical sack. I came here straight after." He leaned his head back on her well endowed chest and took a deep breath, "I love you, Storm," he turned around and kissed her.

"I love you, Freakshow," she answered back, kissing him in return. She almost laughed when she realized that the man was already asleep by the time she had finished kissing him.

So, there she sat, staring at her husband, not wanting to blink and miss a minute of him bathed in the moonlight.

The next morning an hour before breakfast, the two of them made vigorous love for the first time in years and then showered. It did nothing to hide the glow that surrounded the two from their obvious post orgasmic euphoria.

"Are you ready?" Asked Professor Xavier.

Both men nodded and Freakshow took a stance, having given his ceremonial knife to Storm and entered the arena unarmed.

"Logan, correct?" the man asked.

"Wolverine, in battle, yeah," the man slowly unsheathed his claws, then took them back. This was a spar. Wasn't gonna kill the kid.

"Metal bones," Harry hummed, "difficult. No hands then." he stomped one foot forward and held his fists before his face like a barrier, leaving only enough gap to see.

"That confident?" the feral mutant grunted, crouching low as they stalked around one another.

"Not at all. I would rather not break my fingers punching you, is all. I suppose that also bars any shin or forearm blocks. You are a difficult opponent, and you haven't even done anything yet," the British man harrumphed.

Logan just smirked and darted in. Harry dodged to the side in a roll and came up with a kick aimed at Wolverine's side, below the ribs. The Hairy man blocked the hit with an elbow, and received another kick to the jaw.

Harry got a blow to the ribs, which sent him tumbling.

He hopped back up, but favored his left side.

"Alright, ow," he said, "May I use my powers in this? No way can I take you, hand to hand."


	2. Chapter 2 Let Me Show You My Sciences

I do not own RWBY.

The Scientist

Velvet Scarletina was a soft spoken, well mannered, kind young second year in the Beacon Academy for Huntsmen and Huntresses. She was well trained, capable of… well, the same as anyone else in the second year of this prestigious, four year school.

The only thing that might set her apart from the majority of her peers were her long, brown, rabbit ears. Unfortunately, that was enough to earn the ire and harassment of the Purists. Humans, that is, that felt Faunus, like Velvet, were animals and nothing more. Racist was a kind description, really.

The young woman sighed sadly as she watched a large first year with mahogany red hair start to approach. The cruel smirk on his face was a promise of pain and annoyance. He'd get away with what was to come, whatever it may be. None of the staff would stop him, and if she did, she'd be the one in the wrong, beating up an underclassmen and all.

She resigned herself to the pain when, suddenly, there was an interruption to the scheduled abuse.

A young man with large, round glasses, wildly spiky red hair, and an ecstatic grin, sat across from her rather abruptly. He presented a hand with well manicured nails but with calluses indicative of a life of hard work.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said, his voice slightly raspy and somewhat energetic, "I am Syler Greene and I am a Scientist. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss…" he left that hanging in the air for her to give her name.

"Oh," she said, blinking in surprise at the sudden, but pleasant, interruption of annoyance she had expected, "I'm Velvet. Velvet Scarletina." She shook his hand and his smile widened reaching his eyes.

"Fascinating, Miss Scarletina, simply Fascinating!" He shook her hand briefly but vigorously, then retracted to set both of his palms on the table in front of him, "Your accent is different than those around us, may I ask where you call home?"

The Faunus girl tilted her head to one side, but shrugged, "I'm from a small, outlying village, about a hundred miles north of here called Cairn."

"Delightful," he said, pulling a notepad from his white lab coat and a pen from the front pocket and eagerly writing down what she said, "I'd like to ask some mildly invasive questions about your anatomy. Nothing deeply personal, or perverse, but if you feel, at any time, that I am prying into a topic you would much rather leave unexplored, do not hesitate to tell me to bug off," he clicked his pen with a sense of finality, his smile still rather winning as he set down the note pad and steepled his fingers together in front of himself.

"I, uh… alright?" it was more of a question than an agreement, but the young man took it with a cheerful clap of the hands. She looked over his shoulder to see Cardin, the cruel first year that had been approaching, moving for a different target.

"Splendid!" he seemed to almost be bouncing with repressed energy, "Before we get into the Juicy Bits," she could hear the emphasis, "let me ask you a few standard questions. You have your Aura unlocked?"

"Yes," she said, glad that it was a simple topic so far.

"And while I understand it is standard to keep the details of it secret, may I know if you have _discovered_ your Semblance?"

"Oh, yes," she felt there was no harm to that.

"Marvelous," he hadn't taken any notes, yet, but she could see that his hands were itching to grab the pad, "Now, I only recently discovered that I had an Aura, I've yet to unlock my semblance, but I have been able to make some simple discoveries and I would hope you would help me with their application to see if others can replicate them," he held up his hand, and he was briefly covered in a green glow, then his hand came alight with fire, almost startling the poor girl and gaining attention from most of the students and a glare from Miss Goodwitch. He saw the blonde woman and waved at her with his flaming hand. Her eye twitched and she turned away.

"I thought you said you hadn't unlocked your Semblance?" Velvet asked.

"Oh, this," Syler held up his hand, "This isn't my Semblance, this is physics. I'm using the energy of my soul," his grin widened like a predator as he looked at his hand wreathed in fire, "to stimulate movement in the molecules of the surrounding air, creating friction, leading to flame," he snapped his fingers and the flame was snuffed out, "I would like to see if you would be able to do the same. First, if you please, try to apply the same effect without an explanation, then I will provide a step by step instruction," seeing her hesitance, he sweetened the deal, "I am willing to pay you for your time, as incentive."

"Oh, no," Velvet said, waving one hand at him, "That won't be necessary," she then held her hand before her, letting it glow in an icy blue for a moment, but as she stared at her palm, nothing happened aside from the glow.

"As I thought," he nodded, "Now, if you would be willing to try again, try the following: Imagine that your Aura is two planks," he waited for her to nod then went on, "Now, rub the two planks together as fast as you can. Oh! And be sure to keep a protective layer around your hand. It would serve no one any good to see you hurt," his energetic smile turned kind for a moment and she smiled back.

Trying to do as he instructed, she first called on her Aura again. It was second nature, now, to have it form a protective barrier against harm. The hard part was crafting the two 'planks'. It took her a solid minute to get them going and by then, she had barely got them moving. She looked to Syler, but the young man was staring at her hand eagerly.

Finally, after three minutes of trying, she got them to move together fast enough to get smoke and then a small spark of flame.

"Magnificent!" the young man hooted, breaking her concentration as he furiously scribbled on his note pad.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," she said, fascinated by the reaction he had gotten her to form. It would be a hell of an edge in battle, and she would eagerly pursue it, now that she knew it was possible. Heck, she would even teach the rest of her team about this.

"Nonsense," the young man said, adjusting his glasses, beaming at her, "It took me an hour to get it to work. You are a magnificent student to get it so soon. Now, I'd like to move on to the more significant questions."

He had just shown her that anyone with Aura could use fire as a weapon without it being their Semblance. That was apparently _not_ significant.

"Number one, your second set of ears," she drooped a little, "are they fully functional?"

"Yes," she said, a little sad that he was asking about her Faunus features.

"Are they sensitive to touch?"

"Very," Velvet nodded.

"May I touch one?"

Velvet hesitated then leaned her head forward, putting one of her ears in his reach, waiting for the pain to come. The day had been going so well, too.

"My girl," he said seriously for once, "You are far too good natured. This is clearly making you uncomfortable, and for that I am sorry," he didn't even touch her ear, even though he wanted to.

"What?" she asked, eyes widening.

"I am deeply sorry," he said again, taking one of her hands in his and looking her in the eye, "I am a Scientist," he told her, "I am particularly interested in genetics, but a student of all fields. You and your kind are something that never evolved on my world. In my excitement to study you, I failed to realize that my inquisition might be seen as racist and invasive," his lips once again slowly slipped into a smile, "I assure you that I mean you no harm, nor wish you any ill will, and want nothing more than to know more about you."

The kindly girl began to blush rather heavily.

"I… I…"

"Now, understanding that, may I touch one of your ears? I will not be testing your claim of sensitivity, I wish only to feel the texture," he gestured at her extra appendages.

Still blushing, she once more tilted her head forward.

The thumb and forefinger of his left hand touched her ear lightly and rubbed it gently yet firmly. It didn't feel good, per se, but it was not uncomfortable either.

"Velvet," the voice of Coco Adel, her team leader, came, "Is this guy bothering you?" Syler let go of her ear at the cold voice and Velvet looked up. Coco was beside her and Yatsuhashi was standing behind the Scientist, a firm hand on his shoulder. Syler did not appear to be disturbed by the subtle threat as he looked up at the much larger teen.

"No," she said, quickly, "This is Syler, he…" she trailed off for a moment unsure of how to describe what exactly was going on.

"Hello," he said to Yatsuhashi, "My name is Syler and I am a Scientist. May I ask you a few mildly invasive questions?" he stood up and turned around to offer his hand to the taller young man with a large sword, "If at any point you feel my queries are obtrusive or offensive you may feel free to tell me to bug off."

Velvet watched as Yatsuhashi stared at the offered hand like it was attached to an alien. She wondered if he would teach her partner how to use fire as well. She wondered how many people he had asked these questions. She wondered if she was even the first Faunus he had interviewed.

She wondered where the hell he came from.

+-999-+

Ten days prior to his meeting with Velvet, Syler could be found lying in a crater, burnt and bloody, through no fault of his own.

Witnesses would say that the street spontaneously exploded and left behind a teenager.

Of course Ozpin was called in to investigate.

Of course he would send Glynda Goodwitch in his stead to get to the truth.

When the severe woman moved into the medical ward where the young man was being tended to, she found him fully awake and aware, and only mildly singed from the explosion. He appeared to be looking for something, though he was confined to the bed.

That is not to say that he was restrained, but he was not leaving the bed, though he appeared to desperately want to.

"Young man," Glynda said sternly, " My name is Glynda Goodwitch. I am here to ask some rather pointed questions."

"Oh, finally," the teen said, "An authority figure. Perhaps you can help me," he looked around the room one more time, "You see, I have lost something rather important to me, if only for the nostalgia. I might actually be better off without it, but it was rather important to me."

The woman sighed, "What is it you have lost? The doctors have likely placed it in storage for you."

"Forty years."

There was silence for a moment as Glynda stopped looking in the closet for a watch, or other knick knack, and slowly turned to look at the young man.

"What?"

"Indeed," the young man nodded sagely, "I was fifty seven yesterday."

The blonde could already feel a headache forming.

"I can verify my I.D. if you can get me in touch with my facility in Sweden," he said, rubbing his chin, "I'll probably have to bring up a few things Archie would rather keep secret-"

"I don't mean to interrupt," Glynda interrupted, "But where is Sweden?" she knew it wasn't anywhere in Vale. Maybe Mistral, or Atlas?

"Oh?" The young man looked at her suddenly, the intensity almost startling her, "I just remembered that I have failed to introduce myself. I am Syler Greene," he smiled, holding out his left hand, and when she took it he continued, "I am a Scientist from a planet called Earth."

It was not long at all before Syler was sitting before Ozpin. The wise headmaster of Beacon Academy stared over his glasses at the young in body scientist who was causing Glynda to frown more and more severely with each passing minute.

"...And a secondary evolution of man with the features of animals?!" he asked, writing furiously in a notepad, "Where is the evolutionary divide? What caused such an anomaly? Can they breed with standard humans? Are they limited to a single species, or-"

"This is Headmaster Ozpin," the blonde interrupted him, her brow twitching, " _He_ will be able to answer many of your questions." She gestured at the grey haired man in the brown jacket.

Ozpin raised a brow. This was, no doubt, retaliation for one thing or another that he had saddled her with. He took a sip of his coffee.

"Glynda," he said, watching her stiffen suddenly, "Professor Peach will be busy with another project in the week to come. You will take her place in the trip to Forever Fall," he took another sip as he saw her shoulders sag briefly then regain their usual rigidity as she made a rapid exit before he gave her another order.

"Wow," the young man said, whistling lowly, "You could cut the sexual tension with a steak knife."

"I don't know what you mean," Ozpin said, brushing aside the topic.

"Moving right along then," Syler said, flipping back a few pages in his notepad, "I've been lead to assume that you are not just a headmaster for a prestigious academy, but a head of state, in a manner of speaking. I have no doubt you will have questions of your own, so I propose a most beneficial deal. You will ask a question, then I, the two of us doing our best to answer to the fullest capability," he smiled then, clicking his pen, "Rest assured that I have no interest in your politics and require only information about your scientific advances."

"Very well," Ozpin agreed, though he knew that he would answer no question that he felt could be used against the four kingdoms, "I will go first. How did you supposedly come to this world?"

"Well, I was minding my own business, committing atrocities against God's design, when, Bam!" he clapped his hands together, "Lightning struck me, and here I am."

There was silence for a moment.

Then, Syler laughed, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I was working on a genetics project, attempting to prod the D.N.A. of man into a new, more evolved form," he shrugged, "I was getting no results, but my colleague, thirteen floors down, apparently was. At least, I believe so. Lenny was working on a Super Hadron Collider, a device designed to force molecules to impact with one another at the speed of light in an attempt to replicate the origin of the known universe. I can only assume that he attained some form of success, seeing as the last thing I remember was the earth shaking and an explosion of blue-black fire and electricity."

"Oh…" That brought up more questions. Far more.

"Number One," Syler said, "What is the purpose of this academy? Miss Goodwitch informed me that it educates Huntsmen and Huntresses, but I find it hard to believe that this is simply teaching individuals how to track game."

"It is not," the headmaster regarded his coffee for a moment, "Our world is beset by creatures of darkness called Grimm. Their only desire is our destruction, or so it seems. They need not eat, nor do they breed. They are spawned of the darkness, attracted to hate and anger and fear. Huntsmen, Huntresses, they are beacons in the darkness, repelling the Grimm. This academy teaches its students how best to do so, helping them master their Aura, educating them in the best use of their Semblance."

The pen scribbled so fast across the page that it was a surprise not to see any smoke.

"Much as I would like to believe that a world without Grimm would be utterly peaceful, I doubt such was the case. What can you tell me about your weapons?"

"Not a lot," the scientist admitted, "Honestly, there has never been a day in the last century that some part of my world has not been at war with another, though most countries were at peace. I am from one of the more prideful and outspoken nations, and we were at peace, mostly, when I left for Sweden. I can tell you very little about our weapons because I was not interested. The only thing I know for certain is that our most destructive weapons had become useless, not because a defense was discovered against them, but because using them would destroy the land, corrupt the air and poison the water. And if a single country were to use one, all would, and there would be but a few, scant corners of the globe that would not suffer the fallout," Syler looked Ozpin in the eye, still smiling, "I don't know how to make one, but that is probably for the better."

"I would not ask that of you," Ozpin said without hesitation, though he knew of men and women that would.

"Good," the smile was back, "My turn, and, if you don't mind, I would like to fuse two questions into one, should you be amenable."

The headmaster nodded to the young man, "Go on."

"Splendid!" he flipped back a page, "What, in detail, are Aura and Semblance?" he looked up, eagerly, "On my world we know of Aura, of a kind. It is mostly a belief in energy, an extension of the self through the aetherium. What are they here?"

"That is… not wrong," he said, setting down his cup, "Aura is the power of the Soul. It is something that must be awakened by others, but sleeps within all peoples. Semblance is a manifestation of your soul, unique to only you. No two Semblances are the same. Some are similar, nearly identical, even, but the details will be different. We have three students that I can think of who have extremely enhanced strength, but each of them do so by different methods."

"Magnificent, truly magnificent!"

Ozpin waited for Syler to finish writing things down to ask his question, "Are you capable of recreating the inventions of your world? Those not made to be weapons, but for convenience. Things that you can see that we do not have, but would do better with."

"Certainly," the young man nodded, "Although not many. Your world is, by majority, more advanced than mine. Robots, for one, are not half as advanced as the models I've seen on your broadcasts here," he quickly began to sketch something onto the pad then held it up for Ozpin to see, "You see, this was the model I saw. It was capable of autonomous action, advertised to be guarding one of your kingdoms day and night without rest. Our robots are merely man shaped remote vehicles that move rather clumsily. At least, they were when I last checked, a couple of years ago." The picture was of one of the Knight class ground force robots.

"That is alright. As you have said, that is an area in which we need no aide," the headmaster hummed for a moment, "There are things, though, that you feel we could do better, things you can help with." It was not a question.

"And I will," the Scientist nodded once more, his grin growing almost scary as he spoke his next question, "My turn. Will you unlock my Aura? Should I have the potential, that is."

Ozpin took a long slurping sip of his coffee, staring into Syler's neon orange eyes, as he thought about the request.

"Certainly."

The grey haired man moved around the desk and gestured for the young man, the elderly Scientist, to stand up as well. Practically vibrating in place, Syler stood. Ozpin put a hand on his shoulder and stared at the other man for a moment, sending his aura into the spry body, trying to touch the soul of the Scientist.

Some would do this using a chant, something to help them focus their energy and touch the core of another. The headmaster of Beacon did not rely on such things.

The result was immediate and visible on the skin of the young man in the lab coat. It was a swirling acidic and forest green.

"Hmm," Ozpin said, "You have quite the reserves."

"How can you tell?"

"Usually, there are two ways," the headmaster informed the scientist, "The first and most common is the use of your Scroll-"

"Scroll?" Syler began to frown at first, then nodded, "Right, your version of Cellular Phones."

"Yes, it is used to track the amount of energy you give off," the grey haired man smirked, "I'll let you figure that one out yourself."

"Oh? A Test?" Earlier in the conversation, Ozpin might have described the look on Syler's face as predatory. Until just this moment, he didn't think he really knew the meaning of the word. There was a light in his eyes, a fire, and it glinted strangely through his glasses.

"You may consider it so, but nothing will be awarded to you should you pass," another sip of his coffee, "The second way is the activation itself. It takes a certain amount to unlock the Aura of an individual, equal to half their initial potential. It can be taxing on the unprepared. It is the reason it is usually done by an experienced Huntsman. Few and far between are the talented prodigies who would take more than a quarter of the reserves of an adult Huntsman. You," Ozpin said, looking directly into the young man's eyes, "Possess more than the average, but I would hesitate to say an overwhelming amount, of Aura."

"Well," Syler hummed, rubbing his chin, "I've a lot to think about. Thank you for indulging me. Is there anything else you'd like to know from my world?"

"Only one," the headmaster said, becoming fully serious again, "The explosion that sent you here. How did it do so?"

"I can only guess," the man in a teen's body said, "To truly tell you what happened, I'd have to recreate the process, and I do not think that is advisable. As said, it was an explosion that destroyed at least thirteen floors of a building meant to contain such a thing. Honestly, if my best guess is even partly true, more likely than not I no longer have a world to go back to.

"As far as we can tell," Syler continued, "The origin of the universe started with an explosion so massive that mortal imagination can not fully comprehend it. If Lenny was able to recreate that phenomenon, at something as small as one one billionth of the original, my entire galaxy is most likely gone."

"And yet you don't seem overly displeased, or mournful," Ozpin took note.

"Well, to be honest," the scientist said, "I was fifty seven just a few days ago. My parents were dead, my friends were in my home country, living out their lives with children and grandchildren. My colleagues weren't close with me, nor I, them. I was married to my work, happily so, and did not have a lover to call my own. If what I think happened did, then it was a horrifying loss, something to be mourned," his smile, though, didn't falter, "However, I am here, in a world not my own, with power," he glowed green, getting a raised brow from the grey haired man, "I never dreamed to exist. I can not be the only one shunted to another reality. That means there is hope for others."

"That still doesn't explain how you got here. Do you have a theory?"

"One that is simple to say but impossible to prove," Syler nodded, "The explosion itself was so powerful that it ripped through very fabric of space and time. The real question is, why did I lose forty years of age in the transition?"

"A good question, though I have one of my own, about you," Ozpin finally got around to something he had planned on since the very beginning of this meeting, "How are you in a fight?"

=-90003-+


	3. Chapter 3 Blowing Bubbles

I do not own Dino Crisis.

 _The Agent_

Regina was not a brain.

That's not to say she was dumb, not in the least. An agent of SORT was not allowed to be uneducated. Even the most brutish of their lot was considered above par by nearly any other agency on the planet. Regina herself had a jack of all trades thing going for her.

She could hack computers, shoot accurately, kill with her bare hands, investigate a crime scene, or remain unseen until she wanted to be found. She was actually the second youngest member on record. The youngest had been Rick, who only beat her by two years.

So, really, she wasn't dumb, but she wasn't a brain.

Which is why, in the heat of the moment, she didn't consider the consequences of what might happen if she jumped blindly into the bubble of Third Energy while the lab powering it was exploding all around her.

"Don't forget to come back and save us from this mess," Dyllan said, holding the shoulders of his future daughter, but looking right at the crimson haired agent.

Regina just nodded and turned to the portal, jumping in without any further hesitation.

 _ **PAIN!**_

It took less than a second for her to realize that something had gone horribly wrong.

After all, it could only take so long for a person to realize the sensation of your body being ripped apart, molecule by molecule, was not the standard operating procedure.

Pain wasn't quite accurate though. Oh, there was plenty of it, shooting up and down Regina's body, but the other sensations were equal and disorienting and fed back into the pain, worsening it, again and again.

It would be hard to describe what happened next, what with her body being forcibly taken apart by the experimental energy that allowed people to travel through time itself, but, looking back on it, Regina felt she had a pretty good definition of the experience.

First, imagine that you grew a third eye in the middle of your forehead. Before you could even begin to understand this new addition to your senses, someone threw sand in it. Now, while you are rolling around in agony from that great feeling, you grew another pair of arms, only to have them broken by the guy that just put sand in your eye. If that wasn't enough, imagine that the place you were being assaulted in started to spin, rapidly, flashing multicolored lights.

Nausea wasn't a good enough word for how she felt. It wouldn't be close enough to the actual feeling if she said it felt like all of the red hair on her head gained sentience, forcibly detached from her skull, slithered its way to the nearest rave, one strand at a time, imbibed enough alcohol to kill three large elephants, slithered back to her, wretched every drop of the liquor directly into her mouth, then crawled up her nose and burrowed through her brain and skull to resprout on her head before learning to play the tuba into a loud speaker.

It took only seconds.

It lasted an eternity.

In the haze of her existence shifting through time and space, Regina found the sights and sounds odd enough to focus on for a few seconds, long enough to slightly alleviate the… discomfort of her current condition.

The first, minute, relief from the Third Energy came from her brief landing in Paris, France, Sixteen Fifty Eight. The time bubble around her blurred everything to the point that she couldn't see a damned thing, but, as the metaphorical sand cleared out of her metaphorical third eye, she began to realize that she knew. She knew where she was. She knew when she was. Down to the millisecond.

The bubble whisked her away again before she could get her feet under her and she experienced the wildly powerful energy start its work again, trying to tear her apart.

A lesser woman would have died from the shock of it all. Regina simply screamed the scream of reality shattering pain and mutation.

She was barely aware of the second time she was dropped somewhere that didn't cause her continuous agony, a hundred thousand years BC. She couldn't be sure, what with her vision swimming and the bubble distorting it further, but she almost swore she saw a wooly mammoth approaching.

Before it could reach her, or she could even gather enough of her wits about her to try and escape the bubble, she was off again, twisting about through space and time. Her new 'eye' trying to keep up with it all forced a nose bleed of epic proportions, staining the front of her uniform.

She didn't realize it at the time, but Regina began to lose her mind at that point. And you would too, if you experienced nothing but pain and nausea for an indeterminable amount of time.

She must have seen dozens of more times and places. New York, Nineteen Twenty Three. Utah, Forty Thousand Two Hundred Three. Germany, Twenty Two Eighty Five. More places, more times. More pain, more nausea.

Her entire universe was contained within that bubble of Third Energy. It spun and shook and glowed and roared. It drifted peacefully and it rocked violently.

In a few minutes, after thousands of years, Regina began to regain some part of herself. She couldn't tell you what it was, precisely, that came back. It could have been her will to survive, never waning, never giving up. Maybe her dedication to her organization. It could have been the raptor dung stuck to the bottom of her boot.

Whatever it was, it slowly began to bring back more and more of herself, until she realized that, no matter what, she had to escape the time bubble, or she would die. She tried to push herself up on shaking limbs, but only managed to renew her nausea and nearly pass out in her own sick. She had to settle for inching forward, barely able to drag herself along.

After another indeterminable eternity, she managed to reach the edge of the bubble. Her hand resting against its very surface. She cried in pure joy and lightning jolts of agony. It was almost over, this horrible adventure.

Now, all she had to do was push herself to her feet. Stand. In a world that never stopped moving.

Three times she became sick from it, evacuating the contents of her stomach on the floor of the bubble. Her nosebleed, which had slowed to a trickle, picked up intensity again, becoming a veritable river.

Finally standing, even if it was with the aide of one hand on the side of the bubble itself, Regina took some time to fill her lungs with air. Only a few deep breaths later, she glared at the edge of the bubble.

With a battle cry that would startle a Giganotosaurus, she pushed herself forward with all her dwindling might. The exact moment her forehead touched the bubble, it popped like so much dish soap and she tumbled into a roll that ended up with her on her back.

Her eyes, those that weren't metaphorical, stared into the most beautiful night sky she had ever seen. Millions and millions of stars stood out against the black, in all colors and sizes. The moon floated lazily through space in one corner of her view.

She giggled, then chuckled, then erupted into full blown gales of laughter. It didn't last long, what with it reigniting her hideous headache, but she still enjoyed it while it was there. She barely even noticed it when her eyes closed and her consciousness fled.

"Hey… Hey!" something nudged Regina's side.

She groaned, but opened one eye, nonetheless. Standing above her, illuminated slightly by the rising sun was…

Herself?

The face was hers, certainly, with a few differences. For one, the hair was long, held back in a tight ponytail. There was a scar on the left side of her face, it looked to have been caused by something razor sharp and full of bad attitude. The clothing was, again, mostly the same, except the other woman now also carried a short sword over her shoulder, in addition to the pistol at her hip.

"I know what you're thinking," the other her said, holding out a hand to herself, "but it's not a dream. And it does get a lot better from here. Mostly."

Regina took her hand, slowly stood up and gagged at the smell of herself. The headache surged and she wobbled.

Other Regina steadied her and held out a bottle of extra strength aspirin.

"I must have lived on this stuff the first couple of years, I swear," seeing that she was having trouble opening the bottle, she took it back, popped it open and handed herself five pills and a bottle of water.

Regina greedily drank the water and downed the pills.

Other Regina continued talking, "your brain is still adjusting to the mutation. For a long time you won't be able to control when or where you go, you can only pack your bags and hope for the best. You'll need to keep ammo in a pack, along with some basic sleeping supplies. You'll find food and water whenever you land, so don't worry about that.

"The good news is, you're immortal now."

Regina, still slightly insane, said, "Resistant or proof?"

"A little of both?" Other Regina said, almost asked, then continued, "We don't age anymore. You wouldn't think it to look at me, but I'm about eighty four. You can still be killed, but you won't grow old."

"Oh…" she grimaced as she smelled herself again, "Mm'bath?"

"Over there," she pointed, "it's cold but clean. And here's some soap."

Regina took the soap and quickly, shamelessly stripped down. Other Regina didn't blush or stammer or sputter. She had, very literally, seen it all before. If that weren't enough, her training had long since destroyed any sense of shame. At best it was a way to distract an enemy agent, at worst an inconvenience.

So, while she bathed, Other Regina focused her abilities and created a small third energy bubble, Roughly the size of a beachball. She reached in with one hand up to the elbow and pulled out a copy of her usual operations outfit, sans all the blood and vomit.

After a thirty minute, cold water bath, Regina was feeling more like herself. She took the offered outfit and put it on in record time.

"So…" the younger woman began, "Ageless, melded with time, still mortal. Anything else?"

Other Regina smirked and said, "You ain't seen nothing yet."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," she grinned at herself, "Ever wonder what it would be like to ride a raptor into battle?" Regina's eyes widened and a grin crossed her face.


	4. Chapter 4 He Blinded Me With SCIENCE!

I do not own Ruby.

 **Part One:** _ **The Scientist**_ **is in chapter two of Fragmented Simulations.**

 _The Student_

Syler, as it would turn out, was not at all able to fight. He had never been taught, never had the time. He had devoted himself to Science. He'd mentioned this several times. So, he would have to be trained.

It took less than a week of training with a member of staff for Syler to decide that he must devise a better way.

At the same time, in everything aside from his fighting prowess and world history, he was so far above his peers that it would have been worse than a waste of time for him to attend the lectures as a student. Thus, he was made into an assistant professor.

It was in his weekly meeting with Ozpin that he finally made a request that might have been considered unrealistic.

"Finally," the Scientist said, "I have devised a way of training that would suit me more than what I am currently undergoing. The only caveat is that I need a second, an… apprentice, if you will allow, to help construct a solid plan and regime. I would request the aide of a student for this."

"Oh?" the grey haired man intoned, "And who, exactly, would you like to aide you?"

"For that, I need your help. If I may peruse the files of some of the first years, I can determine who might best suit my current goals," he scribbled something down on his pad, then handed the headmaster the page, "And this is my theory for how you track Aura with your scrolls."

Ozpin looked at it for a moment, "Very good. I will send you the files, peruse them at your leisure."

Syler thanked him, and left, going back to his quarters, where he began to go over file after file with a fine toothed comb until he finally found the one he needed.

+-900090992

A knock came to the door of Team JNPR. Opening it, the four time champion of the Mistral tournament, Pyrrha Nikos opened the door to find the wild haired Assistant Professor Greene standing there.

"May I help you, Doctor Greene?" she asked. The young man had made no bones about how he would be addressed by the students in the first class he had been introduced in. He had earned his doctorate, several times over, and he would be called by his title.

"I am looking for your partner, Mister Arc, actually," the Scientist said jovially, "Is he here?"

A frown crossed Pyrrha's face then, "No, he is not. I believe you might find him with his new _friend_ Cardin Winchester, of Team CRDL. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Hmm," he looked the young lady in the face and said, with no malice in his tone, "No, I think not. I need someone that hasn't been beset by the limitations of current philosophy. Have a good day, Miss Nikos."

"I- thank you?" she tilted her head at him, but he was already moving down the hallway to find his wayward target.

Just as Pyrrha had suggested, Jaune was with Cardin and his team. Anyone paying any attention at all would be able to see that he wasn't happy about it.

"Mister Arc," Syler said, interrupting what Cardin had been about to say, "Please, come with me. There is a matter regarding your file that I wish to discuss."

Jaune's eyes twisted into an intense frown and he turned a glare on Cardin, "You told!"

"No!" the red haired teen barked back, "I didn't tell-"

"If this is about your false transcripts," Syler began, adjusting his glasses, "Then you have nothing to worry about. The staff already know and, honestly, they don't seem to care. It's not even well hidden. It's even got a little message on the side, commending your determination."

There was silence for a moment between the teen boys, "What?"

"Yes, your application was allowed because, apparently, you are the first to have the balls to fake it until you make it. They even had to add a rule about it. Anyone that tries it again will face a punishment most severe," he then tapped his watch, "Now come along, Mister Arc. We have less than forty five minutes before your combat class."

"Hold on!" Cardin said, the large teen stepping forward, "Jauney boy was about to help us on a little project of our own."

"Irrelevant," Syler said without hesitation, "Mister Arc is the only one in this entire academy that has the potential to aide my experiment and, as an assistant professor, my orders supersede yours," he fiddled with his scroll, holding it in front of his face for a moment before looking at the redhead again, "You may, of course, go above me to have him given back to your project team, but until then," he turned to the blonde, "Come along, Mister Arc."

"I said no," Cardin almost barked and grabbed the Scientist by his shirt, "He stays with us. Or else."

"Is that a threat?" A grin spread across Syler's face like a hyena baring its teeth and his glasses gleamed under the light.

The redhead was not put off and said, "And what if it is? What are you gonna do about it? You're not even a real professor."

There was an audible click. It was not a gun loading a round into a firing chamber. It was not a mechashift weapon transforming.

It was the sound of a text message being sent.

"Mister Winchester, you now have detention with Professor Goodwitch. That click was a message sent from my scroll to hers with your picture and informing her of why," the grin grew impossibly wide, "You might assume, at this point, that it would be alright for you to accost me further, seeing as you are already in trouble, but I would advise against it. After all," his entire body lit on fire and Cardin reacted quickly to release him, "I was made assistant professor for a Good Reason. Come along, Mister Arc."

The blonde quickly followed after the man who swiftly snuffed out the aural blaze. Cardin glared after them and muttered to himself.

"If I'm not in trouble, what is this about, Doctor Greene?" Arc asked after a few minutes.

"Nothing major," Syler shrugged, "I have a project that needs more than a single person to conduct. You will be the test group, so to speak."

"Test group for what?"

"Why, changing the world, of course," the Scientist grinned again. He whirled back around, adjusting his glasses as he went. "Do you know what training to fight entails, Mister Arc?"

"Um," the blonde scratched his head, then gave an answer, "Well, you practice, I guess. You do moves and stances and stuff, until it becomes instinct, right?"

"Exactly!" Syler said, "Absolutely barbaric, is it not?! Repeating the same actions again and again, brute forcing the body into a pattern so deeply ingrained that you don't even think about it!" he almost yelled, "And they consider this a good thing! They will tell you, 'Don't overthink it,' or, 'You're thinking too much'! Can you believe it?!" he stopped for a moment, seeing the teen backing away, and calmed himself, "Mister Arc, where I come from there is an old proverb that goes something like this: I think, therefore I am. Have you heard of it, by chance?"

Jaune took a moment to look at the obviously disturbed assistant professor, thinking about what the man had said, "Yeah, I've heard that before, I think. It means that, because we are capable of complex thought, we are capable questioning our existence. The question itself provides the answer. Is that right?"

"Right enough, I'd say," Syler nodded, "As such, I have decided to find a way to lay to rest that barbaric method of training that has not changed in thousands of years. And we are already equipped with the perfect tool to lay a foundation for our path," he glowed green again, "Aura."

By this point the two of them had made it to an unused classroom, where Syler took a seat behind the desk and gestured for Jaune to take the seat directly in front of it.

"Alright," Jaune said, following what the Scientist meant, "But why me?"

"That is simple enough," he pulled his scroll out again, "According to the latest update to your file, you are passing all of your academics with acceptable grades, with a particularly interesting result for your classes in Special Tactics and Advanced Planning, placing you several leagues above your peers. Most important for our project, however, are your results in Professor Goodwitch's Combat class. You are, to put it bluntly, failing."

Jaune had been dreading this moment. He knew it was coming, but hearing about his inadequacies was never his favorite thing.

"That makes you the perfect candidate for this project. I need someone, like myself, that has not been ruined by years of a flawed philosophy," he steepled his fingers in front of his face and continued, "Do not misunderstand, Mister Arc. We are not going to be wasting time in here, chatting about girls and comparing comic book notes, waiting for a super power to strike us from the the clear blue sky. We will be pushing our strength and flexibility to a standard far above what we are now, and, during these training sessions, we will be attempting to control our Aura. Your peers use it daily, instinctively, to strengthen themselves, make them faster and more durable. We will be doing nothing of the sort."

"What?" the blonde asked, "I don't understand."

"Alright, let's try something," Doctor Greene stood up, "Channel your Aura."

Jaune took a deep breath and focused his mind as best he could. After a long moment, a layering of white covered the boy.

"Alright, now move the entirety of it to your right hand."

"What?" Jaune's concentration wavered, "Can that be done?"

A grin split across Syler's face like light glinting from a drawn blade.

"I don't know. Wouldn't you like to find out?" he spread his hands wide, "Or what if we could channel it to our eyes, and see how much Aura an opponent has, or locate the Grimm? What if, instead of making our bodies faster and stronger, we use it to make our minds stronger? To think faster? What if we could use Aura to analyze a situation in less than a second and make a detailed plan to deal with a situation?"

Jaune just looked at Syler, realizing exactly how crazy this man was. Any sane person would look at what Syler just said as the mad ramblings of an idiot who knew nothing of the world. His training methods would lead to nothing. After all, if any of this was possible, why had no one else done it before?

' _But then,_ ' Jaune thought, ' _Did they say the same thing about the first person to use Dust or Aura to fight?_ '

"I'm," the teen hesitated, "I'm in."

"Splendid! From this point on, you will spend Professor Goodwitch's Combat class, and two hours afterward, with me, focusing on the goal of Aura Manipulation and Non-combat Application. At the same time, as I said, we will be strengthening our bodies and gaining more flexibility. We start today. Eat a hearty, protein rich meal, and meet me in the gym thirty minutes afterwards. We have much to do."

+-900900902

A week hence and Pyrrha was worried for her partner once more. After being found by Doctor Greene, Jaune had joined a training project that was extremely experimental.

The first thing that came about from it was that Jaune came clean to his teammates about why he had been hanging around Cardin. Ren and Nora took the revelation of his forged transcripts with a shrug each and they treated him the same as before. They decided not to tell anyone else, unless it became absolutely necessary.

The second was that Jaune stopped showing up to the Combat class. Goodwitch never questioned his lack of attendance, so it was apparently approved by the faculty, at least.

The third happening, however, was the most worrying for her. Every night, two hours after the last class of the day, Jaune would hobble into their room, lay down in his bed and simply sleep until the next morning.

"Are you alright, Jaune?" she asked him after the second night of this.

The smile he gave her, tired though it was, lit up the room with his genuine happiness, "I'm sore in places I didn't know could be, tired, questioning my desire to grow stronger. I haven't felt this good since I was seven and decided to be a huntsmen."

Pyrrha looked him in the eye and smiled back, "Alright then. Please, do take care."

"It's alright, Pyrrha," the blonde said, laying on his bead, "I get to relax on the weekends."

And so it was. Jaune would hobble to bed each evening, eat a large meal of a specific diet beforehand, sleep almost all day Saturday, and spend sunday with his team and friends. It went this way for the better part of two months, then a small change occurred.

During each of Goodwitch's classes, either Doctor Greene or Jaune would be next to the professor, watching each spar closely. The next month, finally, the two of them were not just observing, but attending.

"The next match will be Syler Greene and Yang Xiao Long," Goodwitch announced.

"Good luck, Doctor," Jaune said, patting the assistant professor on the back.

"I believe I will need it, lad," Syler nodded to the teen. He removed his labcoat, an accessory that he wore nearly everywhere, and instead was left in his dress pants and green tank top. He wore a pair of simple, but hard soled shoes.

"Are both fighters ready," Goodwitch asked, with both of their ascent, she then said, "Begin!"

Yang watched the young man closely for a second, noticing an odd glow in the lenses of his glasses. She stepped forward to probe him with an attack.

The Scientist dashed forward, meeting her by the second step. Her fist lashed out and he dodged, then sent a punch at her face. She knocked it aside and slammed one gauntlet clad fist into his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him into the air.

Not far, though. His hands, glowing green, slapped down onto the arm she punched him with, gripping it and he kicked forward, hitting her in the stomach.

To her surprise, she barely felt it at all. That could have done Yang some serious damage, but it didn't.

"Oops," Syler said, having danced back, "didn't quite get the timing right, on that one." He held his fists up before him, like a seasoned Boxer on the defensive, but it was obvious he wasn't one. His reactions were fast, amazingly so, but he wasn't using any style that the blonde girl recognized.

She cocked her gauntlets, loading rounds into the chambers, "Let's see how you deal with this, Doc!"

"Oh, dear," Syler said, hopping a bit further back, "Well, no time like the present to test this theory," he grinned over at his apprentice, "Eh, Mister Arc?" He took a wide stance and his hands glowed green again, "Ready when you are, Miss Xiao Long."

Curious at what he was going to do at such a distance, Yang stepped forward into a punch that activated the firing mechanism, sending a blast of Red Dust at the assistant professor.

"Ha!" The man barked, grasping the blast with both hands and sliding back more than a few feet.

Most astonishing, however, was the fact that Doctor Syler Greene had caught, _caught_ , the small explosion and held it between his shaking hands, visibly straining to keep it contained. Even as he was doing that, some noticed that his head was glowing as well, his wild hair seeming to spark occasionally with green flame.

Making sure that his hold was tight, Syler took the still wobbling explosion, just waiting to burst into one hand, "Professor Goodwitch," he said, his voice ringing out across the room, "Whether this succeeds or fails," his legs glowed now as well, and he pulled back the arm holding the blast, "I forfeit after this attack." With that, and a small roar, Syler _threw it back_ , with at least half the speed.

Yang was stunned, but not so out of it that she didn't dodge the blast. She was almost ready to send another couple dozen rounds his way, when Goodwitch ended the match.

Looking at him, the assistant professor was barely on his feet. Bent over, hands on his legs, sucking in deep breaths and sweat pouring off him. The battle had been short, disappointingly so, but whatever he did to catch her shot must have totally drained him.

After a couple of minutes, he stood back up a grin on his face.

"Thank you, Miss Xiao Long," he said in his usual chipper tone, "That was most informative."

"Yeah, I'll say," the girl said, thinking about what she just saw, then turned to look at Jaune. He was a goofball, almost as dorky adorable as her sister, and weak. He also never lost a strategy war game and his tactics were hard to follow, but impressive. And now, he had been training with the guy that just caught a shotgun blast with his bare hands.

"I dare say, Mister Arc, that we could not have asked for a better starting point," Syler said as he put his lab coat back on and pulled out his trusty pen, quickly scribbling notes, "Obviously catching the blast is unrealistic, in terms of continued Aura use, but this means we can quite easily redirect a shot. We will have to see how this works on other forms of munition. Perhaps we can requisition various ammo types from the smith… and a gun of course. I believe my stipend here should be plenty enough to pay for the weapon of my choice."

"Agreed, Doctor," Jaune said, a slight smile on his face, "That was still super cool, though!" he was practically bouncing in place, "I can't wait for my turn!"

"Very well," Glynda Goodwitch interceded, "If you are so eager, here is your chance," she took a deep breath and said, "Jaune Arc against Cardin Winchester."

"Aw!" Jaune almost whined, "He doesn't use long range attacks. Can I have someone else? Miss Belladona, maybe? Ooh, ooh! Pyrrha! Can I please spar with Pyrrha?!" he excitedly begged the professor. The woman looked to Syler. He just shrugged and gestured for her to make a decision.

Looking into the eyes of the young man whom, just three months ago, was dreading each fight, Glynda was almost put off by his enthusiasm.

"I suppose that will be alright," she turned to the class, "Change of plans, Jaune Arc will face Pyrrha Nikos. Retrieve your weapons."

"Pyrrha!" Jaune called out eagerly as they both walked to the locker room, "Pyrrha, would you please do me a favor, first?"

The red headed girl looked to her partner and saw, not fear or regret, but happiness, confidence. He… he did not fear the thought of facing her in a battle. He was eager for it.

"Yes?" she asked quietly, "What can I do for you?"

"Would you please shoot at me, before taking it to close range? Doctor Greene and I have theorized that it would be possible to catch a shot, but he took a really big risk, doing it. Now, however, we know it's possible. And we need to test it a little further," he smiled at her as he pulled Crocea Mors from his locker and attached them to his hip, "It obviously eats up a massive amount of Aura to catch and contain a Dust round. I would like to see how much it would take to deflect a round or two, if you would be willing."

"Um," she looked at the teen boy. He wasn't looking at her, instead he had removed his dress shirt, revealing his back to her. When he first arrived, he had been… skinny, almost emaciated. It hadn't been lithe muscle that covered his frame, just a lack of fat.

Now though, he was starting to show the results of his labors with Doctor Greene. There was a tone to his back that had not been there before. A thickness to his arms. A definition to his frame that was… Well, it was attractive to the teen girl.

But more than that, more than anything, it was his shoulders. Shoulders that, before all this, bore the weight of his own bad choices, constantly slumped forward from denigrating comparison of himself to others and finding himself lacking. Now, they were held straight and high. He looked to be four inches taller, just from that, and he had not been short to start with.

And that made Pyrrha happy.

"Certainly," she said, "I would be happy to help."

Jaune had just pulled on his limited edition, ultra rare, Pumpkin Pete's Bunny Hoodie, and turned to smile at her, "Great! Thanks, Pyr!"

+-900909902

At the same time as those two were preparing for their sparring match, Syler was speaking with Glynda.

"You see, Professor Goodwitch," the young in body Scientist said, "Aura is the key. As you well know, it can enhance the body. But I had a thought. If it can enhance the body, why not the mind?" he explained it easily to her, not caring if anyone overheard. It wasn't a secret, afterall, "More than that, it can strengthen parts of you separately, if you so choose. Mister Arc and myself have been exploring this for the last few months and have made startling progress, as you see," he grinned.

"That explains some of what you did, I suppose, but will Mister Arc be alright? His performance in the last combat session he participated in was… less than satisfactory," the woman said, managing to appear intrigued and annoyed at the same time.

"Oh, I'm not sure of Mister Arc's victory, but he will put up a far better fight than you might think. I will freely admit that he has obtained better combat control over his Aura. Once we got the idea we wanted in action he took to it like a duck to water. I've been spending more time in the Non-combat Applications. But, seeing as he is the one who really wants to be a warrior for the good of all, it is not at all disappointing to see him overtake me in the field of combat," Syler smiled and pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

As he was finishing saying that, Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos came out of the locker room equipped for battle.

Jaune stood at the far end of the arena and Pyrrha had Milo in its rifle form.

"Begin!" Goodwitch with little preamble.

Like Syler, Jaune took a wide stance, his hands glowing white. The difference came from his head. That is to say, his hair began to lift into the air, not spiking upwards so much as floating lazily, like he was in water. It swayed and drifted to and fro, leaving little trails of white mist wherever it went. This was matched by his eyes, which had also turned white and glowing.

Pyrrha took aim, then fired a shot. Jaune's hand lashed out and pushed the shot aside, almost faster than the redheaded girl could perceive. Taking a look at Jaune's Aura on the holographic display, she saw that it had barely gone down a single tick.

Her confidence boosted by that, she took three more quick shots at the boy whom she had a most obvious crush on. Just like the first one, he batted these aside, taking almost no damage from the attacks.

"Mister Arc," Doctor Greene said, "Try one more, with a spin, then take it to close quarters."

"Yes, Doctor!" he then tapped himself on the shoulder, "Right here, Pyrrha."

The girl just nodded, aimed and fired. At first she feared that his technique had failed when it looked like he had caught the shot in his shoulder and spun with it, only for him to go a full three hundred and sixty degrees, launching the shot back at her with the centrifugal force the spin created. Pyrrha hastily pulled up her shield, blocking it, but that had been surprising.

Jaune was grinning, "That was Awesome!"

"I quite agree," the Mistrali Champion said, her own grin forming, "Close range now?"

The boy nodded, drawing his sword from its sheath and lighting his legs with Aura as well. He crouched lower to the floor, placing one foot far forward of the other.

There was the sound of cracking stone and Pyrrha's eyes widened. She barely pulled her shield up in time to block the series of strikes and slashes that came her way. To the watchers there was the staccato sound of dozens of sword strikes in only a few seconds. They knew that Jaune was using his sword to attack, but the only thing they could see of the blade were silver streaks where light bounced off the ancient metal.

This went on for only a few seconds before Pyrrha countered, by stabbing at him with her weapon in it's short spear form, forcing him to back off. She switched it to a sword and lunged in, striking back at him with attacks that were just as fast and fierce as the barrage she had just endured. The difference between the two of them was that Jaune did not use his shield to deflect her attacks.

Instead, the blonde met her, blade to blade. This went on for a solid minute, the two of them slashing and stabbing, blocking, deflecting and parrying, at speeds none of the other teens had seen from the two warriors before.

Just the last week, Pyrrha had been sent alone against all of Team CRDL, and had walked through them with as much effort as person might use to walk through a door. It was clear, now, that they would not be the only team that she could have done that to. She had obviously been holding back a lot.

The fight changed pace again when Jaune leapt into the air and slashed at her from above. Pyrrha could see the grin on his face and it was matched by one of her own. She parried his attack and jabbed at him with her spear, only for him to spin and bat it aside.

Jaune landed behind her, even though she twirled around to face him in less than an instant and pulled his sheath from his belt, and gripped it like a second sword in his off hand.

Pyrrha found herself having to make liberal use of her semblance for the first time in the fight, if only to move her shield to catch more of his attacks before they hit her. This had to be one of the most entertaining fights of her career. She just couldn't predict him. He had no style, not really, and he seemed to strike from any direction that suited his fancy.

This boy, this _man_ , was her partner. Jaune Arc, the guy that treated her like she was his actual friend outside of the arena, whom had a good, kind heart with a noble goal, and the person who was now driving her to her limits in this spar.

Before, Pyrrha could be said to have a crush on the boy. Now, she might actually love him.

A black glow surged over her form and Pyrrha's own attacks became swifter and began to creep through Jaune's defenses. The cost was a few of his own, marking her where her defenses lacked for the briefest of moments.

To the class, and Professor Goodwitch, all they really saw was the two students dashing all around the arena, coming together again and again in explosive clashes that rained sparks around them.

It went on for another three minutes before, as Jaune started to wane, Pyrrha finally managed to get the decisive blow with her spear, sending the butt of it into his chin, then twirling into a kick that sent him rolling across the arena.

Silence reigned, now that the sound of metal clashing against metal had faded. The only two sounds that could be heard, truly, were the gasping breaths that Pyrrha took, her chest heaving, and Jaune groaning as he slowly got back to his feet, rubbing his chest.

"Dear Lord, Pyr," the boy said with a wincing grin, "You are a titan. I give," looking to the hologram, they saw that his aura was only a few ticks away from the red, while the champion's was at about twenty five percent.

"That was…" Goodwitch began, "Impressive. You have improved beyond anything I could have imagined, Mister Arc. You, Miss Nikos, have shown a level of skill that, now, has only been seen twice, at your age," she gave a pointed look to Jaune, "You have both done very well."

The blonde walked over to the redhead with a smile, one hand still holding his chest while his chin began to bruise. Pyrrha felt alive, excited, joyous and, just very slightly, sad. Sad that it was over. Sad that Jaune had lost, that he would probably not challenge her again, not like this.

"So," Jaune began, still smiling, "Same time next week?"

The girl snapped her eyes up to his, seeing the genuine request, the eagerness. _The Challenge!_

"Absolutely," she said in a tone that said she would like nothing more than to fight with him again.

"Sweet," the boy said, "It's a date."

+-90090993

 **A/N: A few of you might have noticed that I have more than slightly flubbed the timeline here. Part of it is because I may or may not have forgotten some of the sequence of events in season one. The other part is because Syler's presence has caused change. The trip to Forever Fall happened, with the exception that Cardin didn't try to get Jaune to hurt his team, the entire class being under harsher scrutiny from Goodwitch. This led to Jaune playing the role of Butt Monkey for a bit longer.**


	5. Chapter 5 Science Be A Lady Tonight

I do not own RWBY.

 **This has been lovingly dubbed** **The Chronicles of Syler** **. If, and that's a mighty 'if', if it gets to five full chapters, I will separate it from the Simulations and give it it's own file, under the mentioned name.**

 **Part one is in chapter two.**

 **Part two is in chapter four.**

 _The Teacher_

Glynda Goodwitch did not particularly like Syler Greene after their first meeting in the hospital. He was far too energetic. Far too open. Something about him reminded her about Jaune Arc, but not any of the boy's good qualities.

As she grew to know him, mostly due to exposure, she did not become any closer with the wild haired Scientist. His inquisitions into the history and evolution of the Faunus were almost racist. The only thing that kept it from being so was that, aside from questions about their specific anatomical differences, he didn't ask anyone else different questions when he would briefly interview them.

And then, to her awe, he had taken Mister Arc under his wing.

This untrained Scientist had taken this untrained child and turned him into a close match for Pyrrha Nikos in just under three months. Now, the partners would put on a showcase of a spar, once a week. The gap between them had been monumental at the beginning of the year. It was now within Jaune's reach to beat the Invincible Girl. It hadn't happened yet, if only because the Champion trained as hard as was healthy everyday to make sure she retained her edge, driven to further heights by her partner's exceptional growth.

More than that, seeing the two of them in the arena spurred on a lot of her students to train harder, that they might catch up to the two of them.

Syler would also fight each Friday, just before Pyrrha and Jaune, but he never won, always forfeiting after trying a new, extraordinary technique that had been thought impossible until he tried it. Just last week he had used the explosion from Cardin's mace to launch himself at the ceiling, where he stuck. The entire class, and Glynda herself, were struck speechless, staring up at the man that was standing upside down on the ceiling.

He had been declared as a ring out, because of that, but that he could do it was another surprise to many.

"What will you be doing next, Doctor Greene?" Mister Arc had asked.

"Well, in my spare time, I will be researching the possibility of unassisted flight, and will be drawing up schematics for an engine. The bulk of my priority however is being focused on another task."

Later that day, Glynda found herself in the basement of Beacon Academy, having been summoned by the headmaster. She found out why when she got there.

"This machine," Syler said, with more disgust in his voice than she had ever heard, before he spit to the side, "will do nothing but kill your intended subjects. This one is already dead," he said, pointing at the screens showing Amber's vitals, "and attempting to transfer her remaining, shorn soul to someone else will only kill that person and finish delivering her power to your enemies. The only thing to be done at this point is to release this young woman from the mortal coil, find your enemy, exterminate them, and hope that the next Maiden is your ally," his eyes and glasses had glowed as he looked at the young woman in the device, kept alive by machines.

"That may not be favorable," Ozpin said, "Our enemies are already powerful, this will-"

"Headmaster Ozpin," Syler's voice, still calm, had the quality of thunder as he interrupted the man, "This is _not_ Science. It is guess work, slap-dash engineering, and the worst kind of hopeful optimism, if only because it would kill anyone you put into it. This might as well be a man using magnets to cure a broken leg, simply because he thinks they are magic. You will have to _work_ for a real solution to your problem. To put it simply, pissing on a lily doesn't make it a yellow rose. Putting tubes, toggles and monitors on a suicide booth doesn't make it Science." The Scientist then headed for the elevator, not speaking another word on the matter.

"Headmaster?" Glynda asked, unsure of how to proceed. It was not often that someone contradicted Ozpin's designs. Far fewer were they that had good reasons for it.

The grey haired man stared at the Maiden in the transferal device with a sense of loss and mourning. He stayed that way long enough that Professor Goodwitch was about to call out to him again when he turned away from the unfortunate corpse that still had a heartbeat.

"Turn it off, Glynda. We will give Amber a proper burial tomorrow," He sipped his significantly cooled coffee and kept walking.

The blonde woman watched him go then turned to the machine. She took four large steps forward, apologized to the girl inside, then activated the shutdown sequence. Two minutes and sixteen seconds later, a yellow light coalesced over the body before shooting out of the room and into their undisclosed enemy.

She could only hope that they were ready when the fight came to them.

+-900909099

It was roughly two weeks before the Vytal Tournament. Glynda was overseeing another Combat class. There had been some hubbub throughout the year. Mostly centered on Team RWBY.

First, for roughly three days, Miss Belladonna had gone missing. Probably something to do with her previous ties to the White Fang. This had lead the other girls on a merry chase all around Vale, until it culminated in a confrontation at the docks between Team RWBY and a visiting student by the name Sun Wukong, arrayed against Roman Torchwick and the White Fang members that he was using for muscle. Torchwick got away, but that was hardly surprising. That despicable man had been dodging fully fledged Huntsmen and Huntresses for years. A fresh team of Huntresses in training, no matter how prodigal, would hardly be able to do better.

The second time was essentially the same confrontation, except it was executed at great speed, on the highway through town. It had also involved a stolen, Atlasion Military Heavy Armor Assault Platform. The nickname of the vehicle was the Paladin, for the connotations of righteous strength and protection. Its first debut was as a weapon, piloted by a known criminal, trying to kill four teenage girls and two boys.

It failed.

Now, the woman stood, observing another spar between one of her students and one of the visiting Mistral students. It had just ended, actually.

"Next will be-" Glynda began to say, but was interrupted by one of the visiting students from Haven Academy.

"Yeah," said the teen she knew to be Mercury Black, "I'd like to challenge Pyrrha Nikos." He was already making his way to the arena, as if already expecting her to agree to his demand.

She frowned and said, "No."

The boy stumbled, "What?"

"Miss Nikos has a previous engagement for the last spar of the day," Goodwitch explained simply.

"Well, surely the Invincible Girl," he almost used air quotes as he sneered the title, "Can handle one extra little fight before that."

"Mister Black," her voice did not waiver, or growl, or thunder across the room, but the teen felt like there was a blade at his throat, none the less, "Go back to your seat. Now."

"Now, now, Professor Goodwitch," Syler said, "No need to be so hasty. It is rather obvious that this young man wants to burn some energy, probably make a statement about how strong his school is. I need an opponent for today, anyway," he took off his coat, "Come along, young man. Let's put on a good show." The Scientist handed his weapons, a rather large revolver and a twelve foot chain whip, to Jaune Arc and made a show of stretching. As usual, he was wearing a green tank top, grey slacks, and a pair of simple, hard soled shoes.

Mercury seemed to look into the crowd for something, then shrugged, "Sure, why not?" He stepped into the ring, and took up a stance, his left leg forward, his hands curled into fists.

"Mercury Black Versus Syler Greene," Glynda announced, "Begin!"

Mercury tilted his weight forward, about to take a step forward that would lead into a dash that he would use to start several vectors of attack. The boy got halfway through the planned course of attack when the assistant professor slid forward with his shoulder, smashing it into his chest and knocking the air out of him.

Now, for some, that might be a metaphor, a simile, for a smooth move. For others it would mean that they had gotten through Mercury's guard and knocked him down.

For Syler it meant exactly what the word said. The Scientist was sliding around the arena, now, as though he had skates on his shoes, though he very clearly had none. The only hint of what he was doing were the green lines of light that he left behind before they faded.

"Hmm," Syler said, drifting along the floor, "This is quite strenuous on my reserves. I could probably keep this up for only a few more minutes. Best get on with it," he turned to the other teen, "Alright, lad," his grin was somewhat manic as he visibly dropped a half inch to the floor, and held his arms out to his sides, "Give me a good hit."

"What?"

"Hit me," the wild haired young man said, "I'm testing something in a controlled environment. If it goes wrong, we have medics on hand," his smile had become less like a monster in the dark, waiting to strike, and more friendly, "So, with that in mind. Please, hit me." with his back to the students, Syler couldn't see that the grey haired teen made eye contact with his team leader, then shrugged.

"Whatever you say, kid," Mercury said, missing it as his opponent's eyebrow twitched. He couldn't fight Nikos, but he could hurt this guy. Make it look like a training accident. That would hurt the Arc kid, which would hurt Nikos.

Not the cleanest plan, but it was what he had.

The grey haired teen launched himself forward with one push from his powerful, artificial legs. He brought one knee up, feinting a hit to the sternum while chambering a round into his ankle mounted shotguns.

Syler didn't move an inch. His eyes still glowed, his grin stayed in place, and he simply let the assassin pretending to be a student attack him.

The knee stuck the redhead in the chest.

Only, it didn't.

Mercury tried to recover from the failed attack by spinning into a roundhouse kick. It slammed into Syler's jaw.

It missed and he kept spinning.

That leg came down and Mercury donkey kicked him, very center of his chest. He felt the vibration in his leg to indicate it. He didn't know what weird trick this guy was using, but he got him this time.

"Ow," the Scientist said, "A good hit. I couldn't take too many of those, I think." He rubbed his stomach, then took another open stance, "Once more, Mister Black. The test is not yet complete."

"What did you do?" The teen asked, a frown on his face, "I know I hit you, but then I just… didn't."

Syler nodded, "Perhaps I'll tell you after our match."

One last look at his team leader, and Mercury went back on the attack. Only one out of every seven actually struck the Scientist.

After a few minutes, Syler said, "Enough. I forfeit, Professor Goodwitch," he turned to the young man that was his opponent, "Thank you for your help," he held out his hand, and Mercury reluctantly took it, "And in the future, please refer to me as Doctor Greene. It is a title that I have earned, I assure you."

The grey haired boy just rolled with it, saying, "Sure, whatever you say." The two of them parted ways, Syler going to stand with Jaune and Professor Goodwitch, Mercury to take a seat with his team.

"Final bout of the day," a soft murmur started as Goodwitch spoke, "Jaune Arc Versus Pyrrha Nikos."

For Glynda, the fight happened like many before it, the partners both displaying speed, grace and strength far beyond their years. Even now, she felt awe at their display. But she hid her dropped jaw easily behind a stoic face of disinterest. It was made easier as it warred with the urge to smirk at the absolutely gobsmacked expressions on the foreign students' faces. Especially so of the arrogant boy that had attempted to demand… anything of her.

Mister Arc and Miss Nikos had long ago outpaced their peers, and were now approaching a level that she felt might be difficult for third year students to take on with a regular chance for success. The show they were currently putting on only showed just how prodigious their talents were.

Pyrrha was the very spirit of dedicated training and strength through persistence of spirit. Jaune, on the other hand, could be the poster boy for mind over matter.

The match eventually concluded as it usually did, with Pyrrha just barely eking out a victory over her once weak partner. As usual, Jaune did not appear at all dismayed by this. Instead he lavished honest compliments on the girl. Also as usual, the pair kissed and then made their way back to the locker rooms while the class filed out.

"What _did_ you do against Mister Black, Doctor Greene?" Glynda asked the young-old man beside her.

"Nothing truly impressive," he shrugged, "I simply made the majority of my body completely frictionless. It had the benefit of redirecting any attack that came my way, save a few that hit dead straight. I'm certain that my opponent had discovered this, which is why more of his attacks started getting through towards the end."

"Fascinating," the woman said under her breath.

"Isn't it, though?" The teen grinned and made his way back to his private chambers.

+-9009909092

It was all going to hell. The Amity Colosseum was being brought down by massive Gryphin Grimm. The Atlasion robots were attacking civilians and distracting Huntsman. White Fang members were everywhere.

Most importantly, in the sky above them, roaring so loud and long that windows broke and the ground shook, was a Grimm Dragon the size of a mountain. No joke it had actually _been_ part of the nearby mountain range.

Glynda gasped as she saw a fiery explosion eclipse the top part of Beacon Tower, where she knew Ozpin to be. Or, perhaps where he _had been_.

Things were beginning to look more and more bleak by the second. People were dying, the Grimm and White Fang never seemed to end. Their own dreadnaught class airships were crashing into one another. If they weren't being taken apart by the freaking Dragon.

Not a single monster, robot, or Faunus terrorist came near to harming Glynda, but so many were trying that she couldn't make it to the Academy with any real speed.

The dragon roared again, the ground shook, a flash of pure white light nearly blinded, her and the monster fell from the sky.

"What the-"

It was already dissolving. It was in two pieces. The left half was the left of its skull, left arm, and one of its wings.

"What was that?" One of the White Fang said under their breath.

No answer was forthcoming, but that was the turning point. Like a switch being flipped, the robots turned off. With their attention no longer split three ways, it was far easier for the Hunstmen to deal with the Grimm and terrorists.

"Glynda," James Ironwood said as he came forward, most of his synthetic skin stripped away to show his prosthetics, "Where is Ozpin?"

The woman turned towards the destroyed tower. She didn't even make the full turn when it felt like she'd been shot and darkness consumed her vision.

The last thing she heard was James shouting her name.

+-90900900999

When Glynda Goodwitch woke up next, she wasn't sure how long it had been, but her head felt like she'd had it smashed, from the inside out, by a thousand hammers.

"Ow…," she groaned. She heard the rustle of fabric. Turning to the source saw Bartholomew Oobleck pouring a cup of water for her.

"It is good to see you awake, Glynda," the man said in a calm, solemn tone.

"What happened?" she asked, taking the water and sipped it, even if she wanted to gulp it down.

"Vale is secure, but damaged," the Archaeologist said, "Beacon has fallen. The Majority of the students have gone home, though a few remain. The White Fang are crowing about this on the few available channels of communication, calling it a victory for all Faunus. The Atlas Military-"

"Bart," she interrupted, "What about Ozpin?"

Oobleck sighed and pushed the glasses up his nose, "Ozpin is dead. He was found by Doctor Greene, just before he confronted the previous Fall Maiden, the woman who orchestrated all this, Cinder Fall."

Glynda did not break down in tears at the revelation of her old friend's death, but she did hang her head for a few moments, then she turned back to the man beside her.

"What do you mean, Previous Fall Maiden?" she asked, "What happened?"

"Well, to put it simply, I killed her," Syler said as he stepped into the medical tent, "I'm sorry, Professor Goodwitch," his voice was full of honest remorse as he spoke, "I wasn't fast enough to save Ozpin. By the time I arrived, he was already gone."

Glynda looked to her lap, ignoring the itching at the corners of her eyes. She sniffed once, mourning the man that she knew was only _mostly_ dead.

"You said you killed the Fall Maiden. Do we know who the powers transferred to?" She asked about a minute later.

Once more Syler was grinning a very unfriendly grin.

"Oh, I have _some_ idea."


	6. Chapter 6 Eat, Science, Love

**Part One,** _ **The Scientist**_ **, is in Chapter Two.**

 **Part Two,** _ **The Student**_ **, is in Chapter Four.**

 **Part Three,** _ **The Teacher**_ **, is in Chapter Five.**

 _The Champion_

Pyrrha Nikos was in heaven. Perhaps not literally, but close.

The year, for her, had started out rather bland and had only gotten better. Her partner and boyfriend- and be damned if _that_ didn't make her the happiest girl on campus- could be pointed to as the source.

Well, him and his mentor, Doctor Greene.

The man was absolutely mad. Not livid, more insane. The things he'd done. The things he'd taught Jaune to do. The theories he'd go on about for hours, if given half a chance. The last combat class before the Vytal Tournament, he'd been sliding around the ring as though on skates and had been turning aside attacks like they hadn't even hit him. He'd apparently taught that trick to Jaune, because the young man had done it in the first round.

It had looked like he was about to be smashed into the ground by an oversized club, and then he was kicking the foreign student across the arena before moving on to the next.

She hadn't been worried really. When she had seen the club coming down on him, she knew all too well that he'd be able to tank it. She had hit him far harder than that, after all. He didn't even wince and hit back just as hard.

With all that aside, the point was Pyrrha was happy, extraordinarily so. Had been since Jaune had sat down to lunch with her one day. He had made eye contact with Ren. The black and pink haired boy had deduced some form of unspoken order and stood up.

"Come along, Nora," he spoke softly as usual, "there's a combination I'd like to try. You'll shoot Magnhild, and I'll see if I can hit the round, cause it to explode just before it hits the target."

"That sounds Awesome!" The excitable girl stood up and practically dragged her partner away.

"Pyrrha," Jaune said after a few moments, gaining her attention, "Do you like me?"

Her cheeks immediately flushed and she stumbled over her words for a couple of moments while the boy smiled.

Eventually, the Champion managed to say, "Er, Why do you ask?"

"Well," he leaned forward, resting his right cheek against his fist, "the other day, Doctor Greene was working on something and I was distracted, thinking about Weiss, " the boy didn't miss her brief frown, "He saw it and was able to guess what, and even who, it was about. I tell ya, Pyr, Doctor Greene might act socially inept, but he knows a lot for someone that doesn't like to socialize much.

"Anyway, he told me to simply ask her out. I told him that she always says no, but he just nodded and told me to do it anyway. But this time, to watch her. Not ogle, or stare, but to watch her. Specifically he told me to look at her shoulders and hands. I'd be able to tell almost exactly what she was thinking by looking at those.

"So, I did," he sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair, "long story short, I'm pretty sure Weiss hates me. If I even want to be her friend, I've gotta a lot of ground to cover after the way I've been blowing it." He released another heavy sigh, obviously seeing how badly he had messed up and clearly regretting it.

"How does that come back to me?" The girl asked. She hoped it wasn't some stupid rebound thing.

"Well, after that, I started watching how _everyone_ moves and acts when I talk to them," he nodded over at Team RWBY, "Yang thinks of me like a somewhat annoying younger brother. She's always trying to give me a fair chance, but she's afraid that I'll set my sights on Ruby when I finally get the point from Weiss. So, she's conflicted, she wants to be friendly, but she doesn't want to encourage me to go after Ruby, or herself.

"Blake," he almost chuffed a laugh, "She doesn't care. Not really. I'm not an enemy, not a friend, not an annoyance. I breathe, I speak, I go to the same classes, but that's about it. Weiss, we've kinda covered, but she loathes me. Ruby is the opposite, for the most part. She's not interested, but she feels like we can be great friends because we're both socially awkward. And she's right, she's probably my best friend outside of the team. No romantic interest there, on either side of the equation.

"Then we have Nora," he smiled, "She thinks I'm hilarious, is supportive of anyone following their dreams, and is totally _together-together_ with Ren, even if they won't admit it, yet. Ren looks at me as the lone, acceptable, bastion of testosterone in a sea of estrogen. We are brothers in isolation, by choice and vocation. Don't take it too personally, but Ren is the only person I can talk to about stuff… personal stuff.

"Or, he used to be," Jaune grinned again, "We still talk, but now it's just unimportant stuff, and our bond is stronger than ever. We aren't putting any weight on each others' shoulders. Believe it or not, Ren likes some music you'll never even guess. I won't tell, 'cause it embarasses him, but I'll give you a hint. If you think it's something girly, you are completely wrong," he sat up straight now and leaned a little further.

"That brings us to you, Miss Nikos," he was more serious now, "I watched you, too. I don't know if you like me, not really, but I think you might. Your shoulders always perk up when we talk, in a way that they don't when you speak to Nora or Ren. Your hands always have the oddest twitch, like you don't know what to do with them, so you usually hold them together behind your back, a stance to keep them from fidgeting. When you do let them fidget and move, you subconsciously, tug at the edges of your uniform and tend to pick at whatever imperfection you can find. You only ever do that when you talk to me, or a professor. There are some other signs. I asked three people about it, you know," here he sounded annoyed.

"Professor Goodwitch said I should figure it out for myself. Professor Oobleck suggested that it was a wonderful thing to be young, but didn't say anything else. Doctor Greene," it always came back to Syler, always, "Doctor Greene actually gave me a straight answer. He said either you like me, or I embarrass you. I'm kind of hoping I don't embarrass you."

"No!" Pyrrha said, almost too loudly, getting an odd look form some of the other students nearby, "No, you don't embarrass me. Never," she smiled a little weakly, her cheeks dusting with color, "I-I do like you. You treat me like a person, Jaune. Not an idol, or a celebrity, or… or a four time champion of some dumb tournament. And you are a good person," her face became more red as she almost whispered the next part, "and you've become really hot…" she cleared her throat, "So, yes, I like you, Mister Arc." Her green eyes met his blue, a challenge in a way.

 _I admitted it. I like you,_ they said, _Now, what are you going to do about it?_

Jaune nodded, and said, "I can't really date you right now, Pyr," he said, watching her shoulders droop, "I'm still moping about Weiss. I genuinely liked her," he ran a hand through his hair, "Too bad I never bothered to learn anything about her, really. So, yeah, still mopey. I'd be a bad date right now," he stood up from the table, then moved around to her side, "But, next weekend, I plan on going to Vale. A couple of movies are coming out that I want to see, I know of a really good sandwich shop that serves these awesome little cakes, and I'd like to go with someone," he grinned a little tiredly, "Would you be willing?"

Pyrrha gave a rather emphatic yes.

The rest, as they say, is history. One date had led to two, which had led to three, which had led to the boy asking her to the dance. Intimacy was somewhat awkward. Neither were ready for more than some lingering hugs and a few smooches, but were expecting the other to initiate more.

Then, rather spontaneously, Jaune had kissed her in reward for her victory, in front of the entire Combat Class, to multiple wolf whistles.

The day after he had asked her, "Are… am I your Boyfriend, now?"

Pyrrha gave it real thought. She wanted to jump up and say yes. But was he? Had they been on enough dates? Was there a quota to meet? Or did they just decide on it at random?

So, she asked him, "Do you want to be?"

Like Pyrrha, Jaune took a moment to think it over.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "Yes, I want to be your boyfriend."

She smiled beautifully, then asked, with only a little pink on her cheeks, "Will you… kiss me, everytime I win?"

The blonde young man nodded emphatically, "Absolutely, every time."

"Then you are most definitely my boyfriend," she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Pyrrha had been walking on air ever since. When the tournament began, the four members of Team JNPR took the arena in a landslide.

And neither Ren or Nora were coasting by on the strength of their teammates. It was they who trained with Pyrrha, day in and day out, often both of them at once against her. They had never won, just like Jaune, but the practice was worth its weight in gold.

The first, and last, team to make the mistake of assuming that the two of them were the weak links to the team, found themselves in the infirmary, not even remembering when the match ended, but with a deep seated fear of orange, black, and pink.

The semifinals she fought beside Jaune against a pair from Atlas. They lasted a full minute against the Invincible Girl and her partner, long enough for the Beacon students to line up one, good shot each. Jaune had worried that he'd hit his opponent too hard, the boy having crumpled over his fist like a wet blanket. The other teen was fine, but severely bruised.

Pyrrha's own opponent had… annoyed her. He had looked her from head to toe with a leer, then at Jaune. He chuffed, unimpressed.

"You should have come to Atlas instead of Vale. It's where they grow real men," he waggled his eyebrows at her, "Maybe after this I can get your-"

He was interrupted, not by Pyrrha knocking him into next week, but by his partner skidding to the ground at his feet. Bruised and unconscious, but fine otherwise.

"You're taking your time, Pyr," the blonde said, sheathing his sword as he walked over, "this guy that tough?"

The lithe young man looked at the beefy, towering teen that was only slightly smaller than Jaune's opponent had been.

"Oh, nothing like that," the girl said, noticing how the other teen scowled fiercely, "He just seemed to have a lot to say about the men born in Atlas versus those from Vale."

"Oh, I have noticed some differences, but both are rather squishy compared to the guys from Vale's Border Towns. Just look at me," he held his arms out to his sides, showing nothing of the physique hidden beneath his baggy clothing, "Not a lot of people can handle all of this."

Pyrrha giggled. It looked ridiculous. Jaune would probably never be overly muscled and he might gain a few more inches over the coming years, but he was never going to be the tallest person around.

She, and most of Beacon, knew that, despite his appearance, he had only one equal in the ring, and she was it.

"You piece of-" the teen was interrupted when the champion planted a deceptively hard punch in his gut, causing him to heave and gag for a moment before he simply fell over unconscious.

Just as he promised, Jaune stepped forward and kissed her in reward for her victory. He didn't care that everyone was watching them. He wasn't being lewd and grinding against her, nor she him. It was just a brief, chaste kiss on the lips. Enough for anyone watching to know they were happily together.

It still had the two of them blushing bright, _bright_ red.

So, she was in heaven. Later that very evening, she and jaune were laying side by side, watching the stars from the roof.

"Pyrrha," he said, a certain solemnity to his words that made sure she paid attention.

"Yes, Jaune?" She asked, almost nervous.

"I know it might be asking much," he began, "But I would like to take the semifinal and final fights in the tournament. I would like to prove, to everyone, that I'm not the same as I was when I got here. That it's a change for the better."

The girl held back a sigh of relief. She wasn't entirely sure what she expected from him, but this was something she could easily deal with.

"Jaune, I am the four time Mistral Champion. I am still recognized, obviously, across most borders. They will be expecting me to fight."

"Yes, but-"

"But," she interrupted him, "I think I pulled my shoulder today. Would you be willing to take my place?" Her smile lit up the night from the young man's perspective. He kissed her again.

+-9009909998

When the random opponent slot machine placed Jaune against a student from Haven, Pyrrha thought nothing of it.

He drew his sword, focused his aura and then froze before he stepped forward cautiously. He looked left, right, then directly at his opponent. He jumped forward at the boy, his sword swinging through the air and-

Hitting nothing. Most wouldn't or couldn't, see it, but Pyrrha could. The spectators would probably think the grey haired boy had just dodged, but Jaune's swing was too high. It would have missed no matter what.

Mercury moved around the blonde, but Jaune moved with him, keeping him to his front. Finally, the grey haired teen launched a kick. Jaune brought up his shield, but too low. The foot connected with his face and he fell back, dropping the shield and clutching his face.

Pyrrha almost yelled the boy's name when Mercury closed in again. The blonde swung wildly, but the other teen just jumped over him and kicked him in the back, sending him rolling across the ring.

Visibly taking a deep breath, Jaune stood back up, but something was different now. Everyone watched him say something and how it wiped the smug smirk off of the other teen's face. Then Jaune's eyes glowed white and he made a 'come hither' motion with his free hand.

Mercury glared and shot off two blasts with his ankle mounted shotguns. Her partner bat them aside with his sword, never taking his eyes off Mercury.

The grey haired teen seemed shocked and moved closer, shooting more blasts. Jaune just kept knocking them away, with very little effort.

He didn't realize that he was too close until the blonde grabbed him by the leg. Again they paused to say something to one another, then Mercury was slammed down three times before being thrown away.

Mercury grabbed his leg at the knee and howled in pain. Jaune said something again, a scowl on his face, and the other teen froze, then scowled back, standing up with no issue. Pyrrha herself frowned, realizing that the young man had tried to play her boyfriend.

Still, the blonde moved over to his shield and picked it up and started smiling again. More words were exchanged and Jaune's eyes did not glow, they _shined._

It was over in an instant.

One moment they were standing, the next only Jaune was standing, _on_ Mercury, blade at his throat.

Mercury took a second then tapped the arena floor. The match was called in Jaune's favor.

They young man waved to the crowd, grinning, looking specifically at Pyrrha.

He froze for a moment again, and looked back at his opponent with a frown. Then looked into the stands, like his eyes were following a line. The blonde hurriedly left the arena and made his way to Pyrrha.

"Pyrrha," he said low and serious, "something is going on. We need to talk to Headmaster Ozpin."

"What is it, Jaune? What's wrong?" The redhead asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I know that Mercury, at the very least, was cheating, with the help of his teammate."

+-9009909989

"But you won, Mister Arc," Ozpin said calmly, "Even if we do put them on record for it, we can't kick them out anymore than their legal disqualification would. And even to pursue it would become your word against theirs."

"Yeah, I know," Jaune said, "But that wasn't all. If that was it, well, I won. It doesn't matter that they cheated if I won. I move on, they are out. But…" he trailed off with a frown, "But that is where it gets weird, Headmaster. I don't think they wanted to win."

"What do you mean, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, confused.

"Yes, please do explain," the man took a sip of his coffee, staring directly at the student, meeting eyes.

"At the end, just after I'd been declared winner, there was another Illusion. In the illusion, Mercury leapt at me, clearly after the match had been announced. If I had attacked back, _I_ would have been the one hitting an opponent after a match was called. I'd have been disqualified," the blonde said.

"To say the least, Mister Arc," Ozpin told him, "You would have been immediately detained and charges of assault would have been pressed," the two teens paled, but the headmaster continued unimpeded, "But how did you know it was fake?"

"Doctor Greene," Jaune said, "When we do our thing with the eyes," he gestured to his face broadly, "We can see Semblances. Some are harder to find than others, that's why it fooled me at the start, but once I knew what to look for, I was able to avoid it."

"That is… astounding," Ozpin said, "Still there is nothing we can do now. You won, they failed, case closed."

"I'm not sure it is," Jaune said as they rode the elevator down.

"Why not?" Pyrrha asked, looking at her boyfriend's thinking face. It looked good on him.

"If the reasoning was to get me disqualified, why wait until the end? Why not start stronger? Why didn't they just disguise his first hit, make me think he was taunting me, while in reality he was hitting me with everything he had? It just doesn't make sense. The plan is too convoluted. It can't be for something this simple."

The redheaded champion looked to his face and saw deep, serious thought. She thought about it herself. She stopped trying to look at it from a spectator's point of view and switched to tactical.

"What if…" she began, "What if winning, or losing wasn't the point?" Jaune looked at her, waiting for her to go on, "You said they tried to make you attack Mercury, well after the match had been called. If that had happened, practically the whole world would have seen you attacking another student for no other apparent purpose than to see him in pain. The backlash from that against Beacon would do some serious harm to our reputation. Is Haven trying to discredit Beacon?"

The blonde smiled at her and pulled her into an embrace.

"You are a genius, Pyr!" Jaune kissed her, "We need to talk to team RWBY, tell them to be careful."

+-9099909979

The warning came too late to do any good. They did indeed warn their sister team, but at roughly just that moment explosions started going off in the city and Grimm descended from the sky like a black rain on the colosseum.

The two teams began to run towards the stadium when their building was rocked by another explosion. Jaune's eyes widened.

"South side. Doctor Greene is there," he started moving in that direction, then ordered his team, "Nora, Ren, go with RWBY. Evacuate and protect the civilians. Pyrrha, with me. Take out only the Grimm directly preventing us from our mission until we have achieved it. We don't have to kill them all. Just enough to live."

His team split as he ordered and Pyrrha had her sword and shield at the ready.

The south side of the building was rubble. Completely collapsed. Jaune stared at it for a few moments, not sure how to react.

Pyrrha watched as his shoulders tensed and his face twisted into an ugly frown. His grip on the hilt of his sword became white knuckled in rage.

Trying to calm him, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We save them," he said, looking at her, "I want revenge," the young man growled, then shook his head, "But this is more important. People need our help. This is what we are trained to do."

"Very good, Mister Arc," the voice of Syler Greene was completely unexpected and entirely welcome, "But I am not dead," the teens looked behind them to see the Scientist standing there, a spoon in one hand and a yogurt cup in the other, "I, however, am quite displeased by this development. I had over eight months of data in the computer in my room, and it is now gone. So, you two run along and save the day. I am going to finish this fine strawberry yogurt, find the one responsible for this and vivisect them." He paused when the air shook and thundered followed by the passing of a massive Grimm Dragon, "Well, that is fascinating. I will leave that to you, Mister Arc, Miss Nikos."

Jaune brushed the very beginnings of mournful tears out of his eyes and nodded with a bright smile at seeing his friend and mentor still alive.

With Pyrrha following closely, the two made their way to the top of a nearby building.

Syler ate another spoonful of his sweet treat and watched as the top of Beacon Tower exploded. He started walking in that direction, almost casually.

"Not so fast, doc," came the voice of one Mercury Black, "The headmaster is in a meeti-" the grey haired teen was interrupted by Syler drawing his large revolver and firing at the wall nearby three time. He actually fired so fast that it almost seemed simultaneous.

The high caliber bullets tore through the brick and mortar, hitting Emerald Sustrai in the head, chest and stomach. As she slumped over, dead before she could realize he had attacked, the illusion of Mercury faded. The Scientist walked on, only pausing to dispose of his yogurt cup and reload his weapon.

+-99989990009

Atop the ruins of the tower, Cinder almost gleefully watched the life fade from Ozpin's eyes. His last breath hissed out and his eyes closed. He looked so calm and serene that he could almost be sleeping.

And Cinder knew he wasn't fully dead. Some part of him lived on, just like a part of Amber lived in her.

She pulled the glass blade out of his chest and turned to watch as the White Fang, Grimm, and robots tore through the city. This was her greatest victory yet.

The Grimm Dragon shined with yellow light then fell to the ground in two clear pieces. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"How-!?"

"Allow me to introduce myself."

The voice had her twirling around, blades at the ready.

"My name is Syler Greene, and I am a Scientist."

The young man was _smiling_. His glasses shined, his red hair danced in green fire, and his lab coat fluttered in the wind. He held a chain whip in his right hand and a large revolver in his left.

"I would like to ask some invasive and insensitive questions about your anatomy."

+-9009909099009

AN: Clearly there has been more timeline fuckery, but I consider it creative license to do so.


	7. Chapter 7 Nekomata Naruto

I do not own Naurto. I do not own Darkstalkers.

 _The Cat_

Naruto woke up the day of his Team Announcement with boobs.

"Oh, damn," the young man turned young woman said to herself, "I better go see the old man."

Team assignment would end up being put off for a week. It took four days for genetic tests to prove that, yes, she really was still Naruto. It would have taken two, but on the first day they realized that the girl he had become was a demon. Not a half demon, but a full blooded demon. The rest of the week was spent making sure that she wasn't a fox.

It was bad enough to find out that the demon container really was a demon. There would be riots in the streets if it was found out that she was now a fox.

Now, comparing the DNA of a monster made out of the embodiment of entropy and malice to a human was hard enough. To compare it animal DNA, something the ninja of the Elemental Countries never really had the time to catalogue, was all but impossible. They decided to take it at face value that she had cat ears and tail, making her a cat instead of a fox.

So, with the Team Announcements put back a week, Naruto got used to her new body.

One surprising discovery was how fulfilling a nap in a warm sunbeam could be. Naruto wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but she knew that, upon waking up, she had never felt better in her life.

It was a godsend when the supposed ten minute wait for her sensei turned into three hours. Sasuke, the douche, just sat at his desk and glared at the blackboard, so he was boring. Sakura was… well, it was odd, but Naruto had received more attention from the studious girl than she could have possibly dreamed. She just wished it would have been on dates rather than the girl constantly taking measurements and asking questions about her bodily functions.

As it was, while the blonde cat demon lay down in the light and began to doze off, she could see the pink haired girl switching back and forth from swooning at Sasuke and reviewing notes on Naruto diligently.

It was to this that Kakashi eventually walked into.

Naruto blearily opened one eye, a single slit pupil focusing on the Jounin, and he resisted the urge to shiver. Kakashi reminded himself that the demon girl that lay before him was actually the _son_ of his late sensei, and that she wouldn't be trying to kill him and everything he held dear. At least, he was pretty sure she wouldn't.

"You should meet me up on the roof," the man said, before disappearing in a puff of smoke and leaves.

Languidly, Naruto stood. Her tail lashed back and forth for a moment as she considered the door, then looked to the large windows.

"Meet you two on the roof," she climbed out of the room through the window and proceeded to claw and leap her way up the side of the building, until a final jump let her grab, and do a handstand on, the handrail at the roof, then flip into a standing position in front the jounin.

"That was creepy," Kakashi said, then flipped a page in his book.

Naruto shrugged and sat down. It took only a couple minutes for the other two members of her team to make it to the rooftop.

Introductions were made then, each describing their likes and dislikes, their dreams for the future. Naruto was glad when Sakura said that she didn't dislike the catgirl, but it felt about as warm as a scientist saying he preferred one test subject over another.

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki," the girl said, "I like Ramen, naps, sunlight and Old Man Hokage. I like the Ichirakus, too. I dislike loud things, and being ignored, and the stars. I…" she paused, "I used to want to be Hokage, but now I don't think so. I'm not afraid of hard work, but that just looks tedious."

After their brief introductions, it was explained to them that there would be another test, the next day.

The three Gennin hopefuls had shown up at five in the morning, just as requested. Kakashi showed up five hours later.

"Alright, here is the deal," the grey haired man said as he pulled out two silver bells tied on red strings, "This is your goal," he noticed the way that Naruto's eyes became instantly focused on the bells and almost grinned, "If you get one, you pass. If you don't, you go back to the academy. Now, you'll have to come at me with the intent to kil-"

Kakashi blinked and Naruto was in his face, claws extended, eyes wide and pupils dilated. The man was the top Jounin in Konoha. He had done things that few other ninja could imagine. He had learned personally from the best ninja of an age.

He was easily able to dodge this sudden attack.

"Now, now," he chided the blonde girl creature, "I didn't say-"

"Hmm?" Naruto looked up at him, her blue slit eyes having been locked onto the bell she _had between her claws!_

"What?!" Sakura exclaimed, then whipped out a notepad and pencil, rapidly taking down notes, "Agility and dexterity extremely enhanced. No signs of chakra reinforcement. Subject does not appear winded and has, with surprisingly little effort, managed to best a Jounin. Observation continues."

"Deadlast," Sasuke almost barked at her, "Give me that bell. Now."

For a moment, Kakashi thought that his students were going to fight. Naruto began to pull the bell closer to her chest, closing her fist around it. Sasuke slid one foot forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

Then, Naruto blinked and shrugged, "Sure. Here ya go." She tossed him the bell then turned back to Kakashi with a grin as she crouched down on all fours, her tail whipping back and forth behind her, "I'll just get that one, too."

Kakashi's eye widened and he brought his hand up quickly to form a seal. Naruto was already moving, but he managed to get away, leaving a log in his place. Naruto's claws shredded the log like so much rice paper. She sniffed at the air then dashed off to the right, zigged to the left, leapt into the trees and disappeared from view.

Only a few moments later, there was a manly wail of absolute terror, Naruto's voice shouting 'Be a man! Stand still and take it!', and three trees fell over in quick succession. Finally, there was a huge, fiery explosion.

Sasuke stared at it all, then at the bell in his hand, feeling somewhat… let down. He had kind of hoped to fight against the Deadlast. It might be an interesting measure of his worth.

Sakura began to run towards the fight, "I have to observe this! Who knows what kind of data I'm missing, just standing around!"

Deciding he'd like to see this himself, but not willing to run towards the Deadlast, no matter what, Sasuke began to calmly follow in the path of his teammate.

+-90990999

Later that day, Kakashi limped into the Jounin meeting. It was an after action report, really, to find out the combat prowess of the current crop of the Gennin Corp.

Kakashi happened to be right on time, for once. People might have commented on that, were it not for his appearance.

His mask was cut open with four diagonal lines, his vest was half gone, he had bloodstains all down his left side, was using a crutch to walk and was missing his right shoe.

"Holy hell, Kakashi," Asuma said, "You look like you've been put through a meat grinder."

"Yes, well, one of my little Gennin is actually a hellspawned demon that has strength nearing my own and speed like I've never seen before. It happens," he shrugged. The others all gaped at him.

"So, Naruto is strong then? Physically?" The Third Hokage asked.

"By and far. She isn't well trained yet, but her sheer speed makes up for a lot, and…"

"And?" Kurenai urged him to continue.

"This next part will be filed as an S-Class secret. Privileged Information," Kakashi invoked his right as an Elite Jounin to classify data that wasn't _necessary_ for civilians and ninja of lower rank to know. Everyone there nodded with appropriate severity.

When the Third finally nodded, Kakashi lifted his headband off of his left eye. Underneath was not the red eye of the Sharingan. It was instead as black as coal.

"I attempted to use the Sharingan on Naruto. She expressed a _unique_ Killing Intent, and the eye reacted by deactivating," he let that sink in for a moment, "I have been able to turn it on and off since then. But the ramifications…"

Again, the other Jounin nodded.


	8. Chapter 8 Caught in The Gale

I do not own One Piece.

 **Random One Piece Character and Power Generator:**

 **Number One, Gender-Any Die: Even-Male. Odd-Female.**

 **Number Two, Fruit Type-Three Sided Die: One-Logia. Two-Zoan. Three-Paramecia.**

 **Number Three, Logia Power-Eight Sided Die:( You are of course free to think of your own powers, these are just what I came up with.) One- Metal. Two-Water. Three-Sound. Four-Radiation. Five-Blood. Six-Paper. Seven-Glass. Eight-Plant.**

 **Number Four, Zoan Power-Twenty Sided Die: One to Five-Arthropod. Six to Ten-Fish. Eleven to Thirteen-Amphibian. Fourteen to Fifteen-Avian. Sixteen to Seventeen-Reptile. Eighteen to Nineteen-Mammal. Twenty-Legendary Creature(Bigfoot, Dragon, Unicorn, etc.).**

 **Number Five, Paramecia Power-Three Sided Die: One-Kitchen. Two-Garage. Three-Basement. For this one, go into the area that you rolled out, pick an item at random, figure out a power from that item. Example: I rolled Three, I go into my basement, find an old TV. Character has the power to make a screen on his stomach, it shows places around the world, depending on how he moves his arms.**

 **Use to your heart's content.**

 _The Oceanographer_

The Baratie was being attacked by Captain Krieg, the most powerful and influential Pirate to rise out of the East Blue in the last five years. Unfortunately for the man, his many ships, and crew that was a thousand strong, had been reduced to one crippled ship and just over a hundred men. He had been fed by these chefs and fed his men from the bag they had given him.

Their strength renewed, he had proceeded to assault the restaurant ship with his full might.

He'd even sent a small number of his men into the restaurant itself to take the valuables of the customers.

That's why it was quite the surprise when five of his men were sent flying back out, through the wall.

Stepping through the hole was a sixteen foot tall fish woman, with bright red, curly hair and blue skin with lavender stripes. Her fingers were sharp at the ends and you could see her gills on her neck and shoulders. Her light blue painted lips were open to a mouth that was full of sharp, pointed teeth. And her expression…

"Oh, my gosh!" She all but yelped like a child, hurrying over to one of the men she had just beaten, tears pouring comically out of her eyes, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, I just got scared! Please be okay!" she was shaking the man back and forth, trying feebly to wake him up, undoubtedly doing even more damage.

She was full of the childlike remorse of a person who had just hurt someone while roughhousing.

Her tears and cries turned into a scream of fear as she had to dodge an attack from another one of the pirates, smashing him in the head with her elbow as she did so. The poor grunt was incapacitated by accident.

"The hell?" Krieg growled, aiming his weapon at the fish woman. Before he could pull the trigger, however, a rubber fist smacked into his face, sending him reeling. "I'll kill you all!" Krieg roared.

"Hey you!" Luffy, future King of the Pirates, pointed at the girl, "Join my crew!"

"Eh?"

+-9099099149

And so, Gale became a Strawhat Pirate.

With Nami taking the Going Merry to her home island, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Usopp, and Zoro's old crewmates had to rely on the large girl to pick up the trail. While on the way, they discovered that she was not, in fact, an absurdly tall Fishman. She was just an absurdly tall human, who ate the Shark Shark Fruit. In her birth form she came up to nine feet tall. Her half tiger shark form was nearly twice that large, at sixteen feet, four inches.

"Yeah," the girl said, shyly poking her fingers together, "I, um, I'm weaker in water, but I can still move and stuff. I just get really tired after a long swim."

"That's so cool!" Luffy exclaimed to the youngest member of his crew, "I can't swim at all! I'm jealous!"

"How old are you?" Zoro asked, a half frown on his face.

The massive, but young, girl almost flinched away from the heavily injured swordsman. His scowl could be terrifying. He was totally the kind of guy her parents wouldn't want her talking to.

"What does it matter?" Sanji asked, glaring at Zoro for scaring the poor girl.

"F-fifteen," she answered.

The green haired man ignored the cook and looked to their captain. As usual, his eyes were blank and unreadable. Some would mistake it for idiocy.

"What's a fifteen year old girl doing at sea?" Zoro asked, "As you just saw, it's dangerous as hell out here."

"Well," Gale shifted into her half shark form, "Most people just leave me alone," she changed back, "But I'm gonna be an oceanographer, just like dad!" For the first time since their meeting, the girl had some real strength to her voice.

"We're going to the Grand Line."

The red haired girl nodded, "I was going there soon anyway. There is a lot of mystery surrounding that area of the ocean, from it's unpredictable currents and strange weather phenomena, to the abstract sea life that tends to sprout up with little to no respect for the theory of evolution." She would have gone on, but Zoro held up a hand to stop her.

"Well, let's go smack some sense into our Navigator," he told her, laying down on the deck of the small ship they… _borrowed._

"Yeah!" Luffy shouted, then sidled over to the newest member of his crew, "Hey, Gale, what's oceanaphy?"

"Oceanography," she corrected her captain, "It means I'm studying the ocean. All of it. The animals, the way it moves, what it does and why it does it. My dad taught me about some of it, on our island." She went on, explaining her interest in the ocean's all over the world. Luffy was hardly able to keep up with it, but when Sanji looked at the teen girl, she wasn't nearly as withdrawn she had been. She was energetic, making motions with her hands, even dumbing it down just enough that Luffy understood without making him feel like an idiot.

Just how smart was Luffy, really? He seemed to know exactly how to make her feel more at home on his ship.

Would he be doing the same for Nami when they got her back? For Usopp? For him?

+- 900990990999

Luffy was incapacitated. Sanji and Zoro were down. Nami was trying to help Luffy and Usopp had his own problems just then.

Arlong, the captain of the Fishman Pirates, a ten foot tall, human hating fishman with immense strength and more than a few anger issues, stalked towards the shaking form of Gale. She was in her human form, and she had tears of fear gathering in her eyes.

The shark man approached her slowly, holding a palm full of water. He had used just a palm full of water to decimate Sanji and Zoro. He would throw it like a shotgun blast at point blank range.

He stepped into arms reach and-

Gale yelped in pain, stumbling to the side, holding her face in her hands.

-smacked the teen girl aside.

"You pew-mans have made your last mistake, today," he growled at the people gathered at the entrance of Arlong Park, "Now," he pulled the hand holding the water back, preparing to throw.

Holding her face, Gale saw him going for the people. She saw him getting ready to kill the poor folks he had been tormenting for over a decade. She watched him pull his hand back to hit them with just a light throw.

" _Strength isn't a privilege,_ " her father had said to her one day, " _It's not a right. Strength is a burden. Being strong doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want,_ " he was lecturing her because she had beat up some of the other kids for picking on her unusual size, " _A strong person doesn't lord it over others. They don't hurt people just because they can. You are strong, physically, Gale. You can be weak, but I know you can be strong in here, too,_ " he pointed at his heart with his thumb, " _All you have to do to be strong, to bear that burden, is protect someone._ "

Just before Arlong could finish his throw, a blue hand with clawed fingers descended over his face and tightened. It lifted him into the air, then threw him back the way he came.

The fishman was massive, muscular and had every possible advantage going for him that the fishmen usually boasted, plus his own inherent strength and durability.

It didn't quite seem to matter all that much when going against a young girl who was sixteen feet tall, made of teeth, muscle and determination.

"I," she began quietly, then shouted at the top of her lungs, pointing to her heart with her thumb, " _ **I am Galeocerdo Cuvier Von Konkler, and I won't let you hurt these people!**_ "

Whatever response she was expecting, it certainly wasn't for Arlong to jump in the air with a roar of his own and slam his fist into her face.

"You dare? _You DARE!?I_ " he stomped over to her, cracking the cement with each step, "You damn Pew-mans don't know when to quit!" He kicked her in the ribs, sending her skidding into the wall, "You think you can just look like a fishman and be able to stand up to us?!"

Arlong prepared to kick her again. He received a fist the size of his head to his gut and was sent into the air over the water.

Gale stood up, fell to her knees, barfed up nearly a liter of blood, and tried to stand up again.

Luffy landed before her, and put a hand on her shoulder, "You did good, Gale. Get Sanji and Zoro out of here." He turned around and faced the water as Arlong was crawling out of it, pissed and ready for a real fight.

+-900909909990990

AN: I will be posting this here occasionally, just a few scenes where a sixteen foot shark girl changes some stuff in cannon.

Also, Arlong initially ignored Gale because an Oceanographer, like a cartographer(Nami), could prove useful.


	9. Chapter 9 To SCIENCE! And Beyond!

_The Scientist, Part Two_

Syler was still smiling as he stepped forward, "Normally, I would say that you could tell me to get lost, if you felt my questions were insensitive," he stopped only fifteen feet away, "But, seeing as I plan on killing you, strapping your corpse to a table and removing your organs, one by one, to see if your power has had any negative side effects, I'll just skip that line." he flicked his wrist and the whip made an ominous crack, akin to thunder.

Cinder huffed, fire coming from her eyes.

"I know about you. You can't stop me," the fire manifested in her glass blades, making them glow, "You've never won a match since joining the curriculum, here."

His smile did not waver. He did not speak.

With a roar of annoyance, and the tiniest bit of fear, Cinder launched a ball of fire at the young man.

It engulfed the Scientist, the man not even attempting to dodge. He immediately screamed in pain. It was music to her ears.

It was less endearing when he stopped, and the flame parted to reveal him undamaged. One eyebrow was raised and his mouth was in a dour line. He appeared… _disappointed?_

"Really?" He drawled, "You gain a piece of magnificent power, and what do you do with it? A little fire?" He tisked, "I figured that out on day two. I hope you have more than that for me. I want to get as much out of this as possible before you die."

Cinder just glared, taking a stance with glass weapons.

Another thunderous crack and the weapons shattered in her grip. Were it not for her much improved Aura, the shards would have cut into her skin.

"Steel is a far superior substance, I think you'll find. Now, try again, but this time with feeling," he made a come hither gesture with his gun hand.

The woman roared as she dashed in summoning more weapons to her hands. She really wished she could have summoned the steel blades like her annoying opponent suggested, but it wasn't happening. The best she could do was stone.

Well, that, and freeze the smug bastard.

Which she attempted to do.

Attempted.

One hand out, to focus the energy of the Maiden, shot a blast of cold at him, going for his leg.

Even as that was happening, Cinder swung her sword at his head. The intent was to decapitate him while he was frozen.

The blade hit air and the freezing blast only affected the stone beyond where he had been. The only mark that he had even been there in the first place was her left arm, missing from the elbow down, and the crack of his chain whip. It was deafening.

Cinder screamed in rage and pain.

"How?! How are you doing this?! You are weak!"

Syler was not looking at her. He was looking at her severed arm. It writhed and danced, leaking a black ichor that quickly overtook it, rather than blood. It very quickly lost any similarity to a human arm and clearly appeared Grimm in origin.

"What," the elderly teenager began, his voice coming out breathy, "is that?"

Cinder laughed. Was this all it took to shake this man?

"That is a gift from my master!" She yellow eyes drank in his stupefied look when his orange eyes cut to her, "What? Did you think I acted alone? That a human, even one like me could control the Grimm? Naive!" The woman leapt at him, intending to use this moment of confusion to strike him down.

He dodged again. She whirled to face him, and almost gasped at the sight. Syler Greene was at the epicenter of a pillar of swirling energy. His hair had become a bonfire of living green flame, his glasses reflected the light impossibly, and his grin, malicious before, seemed so much deadlier now.

"Fascinating, Miss Fall, simply fascinating!" He took a step forward and she took a step back, "Hybridization of human and Grimm organic material! I'd never considered it, given the Grimm's habit of melting into a black mist when they are slain and the dangers of containing one alive. But you are proof that it can be done!" He took another step forward clicking back the hammer on his revolver, "Your master must be a creature of unique nature. I will ask, though I doubt I will receive a truthful answer, where is this mysterious master of yours?"

Cinder firmed up her resolve and glared at him, "You'll get nothing from me, but a painful death!"

"Disappointing but expected," the man shrugged, taking aim and cracking the whip one more, "Test number one: with the subject's body accepting hybridization with a Grimm, will their flesh evaporate like one?" He moved.

Cinder brought up her weapon in time to block. She dodged away, throwing several small knives.

Syler lashed them out of the air with his whip and moved forward at a casual pace.

The woman, seeing the battle for a losing one, ran for the edge of the tower. She had to escape and bring word of this enemy back to Salem. Then they would do something about her arm, and bring a war back to this _Scientist._

Syler was before her in a rush of green fire, sending his whip out already.

Cinder skidded to a stop and hopped back. Not nearly as far as she meant to and she ended up falling when she landed. Probably because her right leg was now missing from halfway down her thigh.

She screamed again, in rage and pain and fear. The stump bled, and alongside her missing arm she came to one simple conclusion.

"...I am going to die…" she closed her eyes and a single tear fell. She took a deep breath and looked at the man that was her undoing.

He was watching her leg and shaking his head.

"Disappointing. I had hoped for more reaction from the Grimm material," he cut his eyes to her, the orange burning with a real and figurative light, "Was only your left arm so modified? Is that how you stole part of the maiden powers?"

Cinder gave a half hearted, but still throaty and seductive chuckle, "Typical. A man only wants me for my body." Suddenly she was being pressed into the marble flooring that had one been Ozpin's office, Syler's hard sole shoe pressing down on her chest so hard that she couldn't take full breaths.

"Of course I am interested in your body! What care would I have for your mind?" his revolver was then pointed at her head, right between her eyes. From her perspective, the barrel was massive, inescapable, like a black hole. She could see the rifling inside the barrel, could smell the cordite from the time earlier that night when it was fired.

"Your brain will hold no new information for me," Syler went on, "I have seen the scans and studied the tissues of other sociopaths with delusions of grandeur. There will be no mysteries there. But your organs," his eyes glinted and his grin widened, "Your heart, your liver, your lungs and kidneys. Your stomach and intestines. All of _those?_ Those pieces of you should hold a great deal of data. It can not make up for the data you burned," here he cruelly ground a heel into her chest, "But it is a step towards it. I'll just have to get the rest directly from your master."

Cinder wheezed, but refused to scream again. She could feel herself slipping. She was cold, darkness was edging in. The power would pass on when she died. She thought, stubbornly, about her minion, Emerald Sustrai. Her name, her face. Green hair, mocha skin, red eyes. The power would remain in her Master's hands.

"I see the blood loss is taking its toll. You will die, soon," he leaned closer so she saw more of his eyes than she did the gun, "Would you like to know how I beat you? Would you like to know the two, simple words that lead to your failure?" She focused on him, fully, glaring. He cocked the hammer back.

"Glynda Goodwitch."

Cinder's eyes had just enough time to widen before he pulled the trigger and the large caliber bullet tore through her skull and brain. On the front there was just a small hole. The back was another matter entirely.

Syler watched her glow yellow for a moment before that light streaked off to the city.

He looked over the vista, with a brief grimace, and started making his way down the tower to go help where he could.

Days later, after he'd met with the new Fall Maiden and former professor, he took a tally of things.

Jaune Arc, his… he hesitated but then nodded to himself. Jaune Arc, his apprentice and Best Friend, lay in a coma from over using his abilities to slay a dragon and the fall he suffered after it. His partner had save him from receiving fatal damage, but it was a near miss. Pyrrha Nikos was almost inconsolable, refusing to leave his side for more time than it took to shower and eat. Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren were also keeping vigil, theirs only slightly more relaxed than Pyrrha's own.

Yang Xiao Long had lost an arm in the fight against a rogue lieutenant in the White Fang and was bedridden. Weiss Schnee had been taken by her father and a contingent of robotic guards. It almost looked like an abduction, and clearly the girl did not wish to go, but she saw no other alternative. She acquiesced, but her very stance screamed depression and loss. Blake Belladonna had also left, though no one knew where she had gone. It had come out that she was a faunus, and had ties to the White Fang. She may, if rumors were to be believed, have been in a romantic relationship with the young man that had taken Yang's arm. It was believed the girl was either running home, or joining up with the Fang, having been a spy the whole time. Time would tell.

Ruby Rose…

"Doctor Greene," the girl said, looking up at him with large, watery eyes, "I-I know we don't interact very much, but," she tapped her fingers together nervously, trying to think of how to phrase this, "I'm going after the people that did this. They hurt… Jaune, and Yang, and so many people. They have to be stopped before they do it again. Penny, Ren and Nora. They've all agreed to come with me. Would… would you, please? We could use your help."

Syler adjusted his glasses. He was not grinning, or jovial. He regarded her with the full respect she deserved. She was such a brave girl. She saw the things they were capable of bringing to bear, the amount of resources they had. Her own team had been fractured because of them.

And still, she wanted to fight.

"And how will you find these people? Two of them are dead, the last has disappeared as though made of smoke and the presence of the White Fang can be traced to every country on the planet," he told her realistically.

"Yeah," Ruby sighed, but then looked him in the eye, "I have a clue. Cinder and her team, they came from Haven Academy, in Mistral. Someone there must know something."

The man thought about this for a moment. It occurred to him that Miss Nikos was from Mistral. It would be too much, however, to ask her to Leave Jaune's side. He wanted someone he could trust at his side, anyway.

"You must give me a week," he said, somberly, "I have business that can not be put off, but after that time, I would be honored to join you."

Ruby smiled, weakly, "Thank you, Doctor."

"Please, call me Syler."

"Right," she smiled a little brighter, "Syler."

She left, then, to tell the others. Syler moved to the makeshift morgue, he had a vivisection to perform.

909891+-

Three days later, as he was walking to his temporary residence, late at night, a strange Grimm appeared in Syler's path. It looked like a balloon with dangling, clawed ties. He began reaching for his whip when it spoke. It had a woman's voice.

" _ **Doctor Syler Greene. A pleasure,**_ " the thing bobbed, and its tentacles twitched, but it didn't come any closer.

"Well, this is fascinating," he said, instead pulling out his notebook and scribbling notes, "Using Grimm as a means of communication is astounding. Can I assume that the person speaking to me is the mysterious master of Cinder Fall?"

" _ **You assume correct. You may refer to me as Salem, Queen of the Grimm.**_ "

"Magnificent."

" _ **I have watched you, Doctor Greene. You thirst. Thirst for knowledge and understanding.**_ "

"True," he nodded, "But what do _you_ seek?"

" _ **The world. It belongs to me. My kind were here long before men and faunus crawled out of the dust. I would have it back. I will tell you now,**_ " there was power in the voice as it came through the balloon Grimm, " _ **You may have won this battle, but I am winning the war. You mortals will end up killing each other long before you make a dent in my hordes. The best you can hope to do is delay the inevitable.**_ "

"Is that so?" he adjusted his glasses, his grin starting to stretch across his visage, "Then why are you speaking to me? Am I not one of those you want to kill?"

" _ **Normally, yes. But as I said, you thirst for knowledge. In the kingdoms, some knowledge is forbidden. There are things I could tell you, truths you could never imagine, that will shake the foundations of your world. All you have to do to gain this knowledge, to earn your place among the chosen few I will allow to live,**_ " the tone became sultry, " _ **is bow before me.**_ "

"You have been watching me," he nodded, "You know that the council, or one of their lackeys at most, visited me during my vivisection of your former agent. You know that they have forbidden me from doing that to any of the other enemies I might face. You know that I ranted for an hour about their idiocy and the pointlessness of civilian leadership in such a combat heavy world."

" _ **I did. If you join me, you will face no such restrictions.**_ "

"Before I decide, there is something I'd like to know. Cinder, her Grimm Hybridization, it left some traces. The effects were… muted, but visible, if you know what to look for. There's a lot I want to ask, but I suppose I can limit myself to one query," he adjusted his glasses, then asked, "What was the purpose? Why do it at all? The damage to her body, from hosting Grimm matter was insignificant, but visible. After a time, it would kill her. You had to know this. So, again, why?"

The balloon Grimm floated there for a long moment, then Salem's voice carried through again, " _ **To learn. To study and discover. The Maiden power is a strange resource, incredible. But obviously not unbeatable. I tasted some of it, once, long ago. I devised away to steal it. Now, I want to see if**_ **I** _ **can choose its next wielder. With your assistance, I'm certain that, among many other discoveries, could be made.**_ " In her lair, the Queen of Grimm was smirking to herself. How many? How many of these mortals had she led astray with just a few choice words? All they ever wanted was power. Power to defend, to kill, to be accepted. She would deliver, but they too would deliver. The cost would be their lives, the entirety of them. When this man who fancied himself a scholar, a _Scientist_ , bowed to her she would use him, and his impressive knowledge and skills until the day he died.

"Your offer is tempting, I will admit," the man hummed, but his grin flashed again, and he pulled his chain whip from its holster, "but I bow to no one."

" _ **What-**_ "

"I know you already know my name, but some adherence to tradition will never go astray, so," he stepped forward, his eyes glowing and his hair aflame, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Syler Greene-"

" _ **Fool! Imbecile! You'll never find the answers you seek! You'll be chained down by the fools you serve!**_ " she scrambled, shocked at this turnaround.

"-And I am a Scientist," he took another step forward.

" _ **You will not find us! You will not find**_ **Me!** _ **My people will kill you before you even make it halfway here!**_ "

"I'd like to ask you some invasive and insensitive questions about your anatomy," there was a thunderous crack, and Salem's view of the Scientist was split vertically and began to darken, the balloon Grimm rendered into two pieces, "See you soon."

+-909

AN: Officially, this is the end of the Chronicles of Syler. Unofficially, it very well could continue. As it stands, however, I have no plans for continuing. If someone would like to continue it, I have two simple rules that I can not enforce in any meaningful way.

Number one: Please credit me. Just a quick blurb, maybe, mentioning the Origin of Syler Greene coming back to me.

Number Two: If you find that you want to give Syler a romantic interest, please do not make it one of the children. Syler, mentally, is nearly fifty eight. He would see dating Glynda Goodwitch as cradle robbing, even if his body is young. He could not, _would not_ , date one of the teen characters. Glynda, maybe. I know there are other adult female characters in the show, but the only two I can name off hand are Salem and Raven.

If you decide to continue the line of the Chronicles of Syler, I wish you the best of luck.


	10. Chapter 10 All Tied Up In Yarn

_**Part One, The Cat, Chapter Seven**_

 _Part Two, The Prodigy_

Sasuke Uchiha was many things. Among them was ninja, prodigy, doujutsu wielder, and slightly frightened of the creature Naruto Uzumaki had become. He would never say that last one out loud.

It had happened almost over night. At one point he wanted to challenge the Dead Last to a spar, just to see how he measured to the creature that Kakashi had only barely gotten away from.

Now, he'd prefer that she was on a different team.

It was a few days after the Genin exam, the true one where Naruto had nearly shredded their sensei and forced him to pass them. Naruto was dozing lightly while they waited for Kakashi to show up.

Sasuke walked over to her.

"Dead Last!" He grunted at the blonde cat demon. Her ears twitched and her tail flicked to the side, but she didn't wake.

Unwilling to be ignored by someone like Naruto, the black haired boy pulled a foot back to kick her awake.

Before he could halfway complete the move, a single blue eye opened to glare at him. His lungs tightened, his body froze and, deep below his conscious mind, his primitive instinct center was screaming conflicting signals of, 'DON'T FUCKING MOVE!' and, 'RUN THE FUCK AWAY, STUPID!'

Then, like a switch was flipped, everything suddenly became brighter, slower, easier to understand. The feeling intensified for a moment, then it all went back to normal, almost painfully. It left him gasping for breath, hands on his knees.

"What's up with your eyes, Sasuke?" The monster asked.

"What?" He gasped out, sweat dripping from his brow.

"Your eyes," Naruto insisted, standing up, moving closer and grabbing him by the chin to look into his charcoal eyes, "they turned all red, and stuff."

Were it any other girl doing this to him, at any other time, Sasuke would have brusquely pushed them away. As it is, he was barely registering that Naruto had forced the activation, then _deactivation,_ of his Sharingan.

He almost missed it when she leaned closer and sniffed at him, "And now, you smell," she took a long breath through her nose and licked her lips, "like _ramen._ "

Sasuke learned the truth that day. Naruto was a monster, a real demon. The Sharingan was said to be demonic in origin. He now knew that it was. He knew that whatever spawned these eyes of his, it was naught but food to Naruto, to her species.

Even now, months later, Sasuke could not get his Sharingan to activate when he was looking at Naruto. He could use it in her presence, certainly, but if he tried to focus it on her, it just turned off.

So, when Kakashi gave them the signup sheets for the Chuunin Exam, he took it as an opportunity to push Naruto into passing. Oh, he'd say that he was forcing the Dead Last to study so she wouldn't bring him down, but the truth was, he planned to bow out just as soon as possible, after making sure that she could make it through the rest of the tests and pass.

He told this plan to Kakashi only. He knew telling Sakura would backfire because the girl was obsessed with studying the demon. She would try something to get them to remain on the team together. Although… Two birds, one stone? Get them both off his team with one exam? He'd have to train Sakura as well.

It was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Kakashi fully agreed. Together, they put the girl and the monster through the gauntlet. By the time the exams officially started, the two of them were more than ready for whatever the exam could throw at them.

The first test was simple for Sakura and Sasuke. The brainy girl simply knew the answers and Sasuke used his Sharingan to copy off of her.

Naruto had fretted herself silly for a moment, until Hinata subtly offered up her own test sheet as a reference.

Then the cat demon had a brilliant idea.

"Hey! Scar guy!" She said loudly, gaining the attention of everyone.

Ibiki glared at her, employing his most devastating killing intent. It appeared to affect the girl creature as much as it did the desk she was sitting at.

"What?" He growled at her.

"Can I have an answer sheet?" She put one clawed, furry finger to her lips for a second then added, "Please?"

Ibiki glared at her for a few moments longer, then reached into his coat and pulled out exactly what she asked for.

"This is the only copy. It doesn't cover the tenth question," he looked around the room, watching as eyes quickly darted back to the test sheet before them, "Uzumaki, two point deduction for disturbing my exam."

"Uh-huh," she grunted dismissively, already copying the answers down. She passed the sheet to Hinata, who passed it on and et cetera.

When it came time for the final question, Sasuke was unmoved by the threat of never being promoted again. People liked to exaggerate the amount pull he had with the Council, but he _did_ have some political weight to throw around. He'd be promoted when he was damn well ready.

Sakura was confident after all the training that she'd done, all the studying, that she would get it right.

Naruto…

Naruto was sleeping.

They passed.

The Forest of Death was a debacle. Halfway through, something had drawn Naruto off. They heard her say, "Catnip?" Before she darted off.

Orochimaru attacked. Sasuke fought him until he was given a curse mark, then passed out.

The team from Sound showed up to kill them the next day.

That was when Naruto came back, too. She decimated the Sound Gennin before they could even get their sonic jutsu going. The poor guy with the gauntlets ended up losing an arm in the ordeal.

When sasuke woke up, all black chakra and bad attitude, ready to fight _nearly_ anything, the blonde cat girl dropped in front of him with a big smile on her lips. Her pupils were dilated, her skin was flush, she appeared to be having a little trouble standing normally, so chose to move on all fours. She smelled vaguely of mint.

"Play?"

The cursed mark receded almost as fast as his Sharingan. He took a step backwards. She took one forward.

He was about to run when Sakura wagged a branch along the ground. Naruto's eyes noticed it immediately. She pounced, skid along the ground and pounced again. She giggled uncontrollably as she chased the branch.

Sasuke was pretty sure that he hated Naruto right then.

By the time the monster had come back to her wits, they were approaching the tower in the middle of the forest.

"What was that?" Sasuke demanded an explanation.

Naruto just shrugged.

"I think it was catnip, or _nepeta cataria_ ," Sakura began, "For regular cats, it is a powerful Narcotic that has stronger effects the longer the exposure. After eight hours of exposure to a fresh source, domestic cats can lose all mobility and eventually sleep off the effects. Naruto appears to have a rather strong reaction to it as well, but it regresses her mind to a more childlike state, boosted by pure instinct from the cat side of her anatomy," she smiled at her crush as if she had just said the most romantic thing ever. Deep inside the prodigy, the functional human part of him, a part buried by mountains of psychological issues, wanted to pat her on the head for the information.

"Yeah, that," Naruto affirmed.

Sasuke grumbled something under his breath that had Naruto grinning. He stomped forward, ready to have this blasted test over with.

Combining the Heaven Scroll they had started with and one of several Earth Scrolls summoned Iruka. The Academy instructor was obviously glad to see them, but paid particular attention to Naruto.

The two of them obviously had a close, familial, relationship. It probably helped that the instructor knew just where behind her cat ears to scratch to get her to calm down.

"There are still a few hours left, but at this stage, if you've received injuries you think will keep you from participating, you can bow out without affecting the chances of your team," Iruka told them as he lead them to a cafeteria.

Sasuke started to open his mouth when a hand fell on his shoulder. He found Kakashi standing there.

"I need to speak with Sasuke," he drawled, "We'll be back in a few minutes."

Once they were alone, Kakashi said, "Orochimaru had a confrontation with one of our Jounin, just after you fought him in the forest. He marked you, right?"

The prodigy touched the back of his left shoulder, near the neck, and nodded, "What about it?"

"He threatened to attack the village if we pulled you out of the exam," the man sighed, "We have to assume the same will happen if you forfeit. And don't bother throwing the competition. Orochimaru will be able to tell, and will assume we forced you to comply."

Sasuke glared at the wall, his brow knit together with annoyance. This was not the plan.

"Damn it."


	11. Chapter 11 Fire Out Of The Monkey's Head

**AN: When** _ **Clint Eastwood**_ **first aired on TV, so long ago, I became an instant fan of the Gorillaz. I can't claim to have listened to every song, seen every editorial, or even like all of their music. What I can claim is that there are seven songs of theirs that I like above the others. Each of the chapters in this line will be inspired by each of those songs.**

 **They will** _ **not**_ **be song fics. I wrote** _ **one**_ **, long ago, and will never repeat the travesty. If you are talented at them, splendid. I am not.**

 **Now, as I mentioned, there are seven songs in particular that I enjoy, and each of these simulations will be named after them. I tried to keep them in chronological order, except for the first, because I feel that they are important to how I want to write this.**

 **As a final note, let me just say that I only have a vague outline of the full Gorillaz story line. It was the best I could get out of a twenty minute video on youtube that summarized Phases One through Four, up to the video for** _ **Saturnz Barz**_ **. As such, this will be Altered, both massively and minutely. Think of this like Scooby Doo, with far less comedic hijinks, less men in masks, more real demons and no talking dog.**

 **Please Enjoy.**

 _Part One, Fire Coming Out Of The Monkey's Head_

 **2-D**

Stuart Pot was a happy young man. At the young age of seventeen, he had a bangin' hot girlfriend, a satisfying job with rather low pay, and dreams for the future.

He may not have been particularly bright, but the future certainly felt like it was. Bright, that is.

This year he would finish high school, he had saved up enough cash to afford that new Keyboard the boss had been saving for him, and his vocal training was coming along nicely. He might be his own coach, but he was pretty sure that his voice wasn't like nails on a chalkboard. At least Paula seemed to approve.

That day, he was opening the store by himself. The boss was out of town for the weekend, and he had left him with only the warning of not to break anything and to hand over the cash right away if they were robbed.

At eight in the morning, he opened the back door, entered the security code, and set about putting out the display instruments. That done, he counted the safe, set up the register, and took a quick inventory. Finally, at ten A.M. he unlocked the front door and turned on the 'Open' sign.

It was a monumentally slow day, but Saturdays usually were. It gave him plenty of time to practice with the used merchandise in the back. The room was sound proofed, but he had a good view of the security camera, just in case someone did come in.

Double checking that the street was empty, he moved to his second favorite instrument in the back. It was an old Keyboard, brought in by a grumpy former musician, looking for booze money. Stuart couldn't imagine giving away an instrument for something so lame. Sure, he liked to drink with his friends now and again, but never could he find as much joy in a bottle as he did in music.

He drew his fingers over the keys, feeling the history it had been part of. He could see dings and cracks, a place were stickers had once been, and a bit of new paint over old. If this thing could talk, Stuart would love to hear it's tales.

He flicked the on switch, set it to repeat the first four notes he played, and started tapping his foot. He let his fingers dance over the keys, humming along for a minute before he opened his mouth to sing a few, simple lyrics.

Outside the sound proofed room, there was a screech of tires as a black cadillac swerved to avoid hitting a pedestrian. It hopped the curve and crashed through the sidewall of the music store. The massive crashing sound had Stuart looking up just in time to see the car heading for him. He didn't even have time to duck out of the way when it clipped the side of his head, hitting just above and beside one of his brown eyes.

He fell to the ground in agony. His vision swam, his head felt like it was spinning, the pain was pressing down on him like a ton of bricks, there was a sensation like fluid filling his left eye.

Stuart's last sight as he fell unconscious was of a pair of legs wearing blue jeans with cowboy boots on the feet stepping out of the mangled car, the owner dropping a bottle of beer with a disgusted growl.

 **Russel**

Russel Hobbs was relatively happy, all things considered. Working at the record shack was a big help.

He could never forget. Never. The sounds, the smells.

 _The Reaper._

It had been years, but the events still haunted him. Literally.

He was getting better, though, learning to cope.

He heard the whispering of his closest friend in his ear and nodded.

"Yeah, man. Kickin' beat," he started bobbing his head, keeping up with the rhythm and lyrics. He'd heard the song before, plenty of times, but he guessed this was a first time for Del. He turned up the volume a little, rocking side to side with the song.

He wasn't actually working today. He was just hanging out, since he had nothing better to do. Russ was, of course, hanging out in his favorite section, rearranging the records and playing some of his favorite music.

He felt the phantom presences of his friends laughing and joking. He heard it as they added their own lyrics to the music. He just kept bobbing his head along.

The doorbell jingled. A car backfired.

The breath was sucked out of the large man's lungs. The world tilted and twisted. Darkness crawled in and grasped at his face.

He turned to the front of the store, but it wasn't a busy street of London that he saw. No, it was somewhere else entirely.

The sights, the sounds, the smells. The people.

His friends. _Alive._

He could see them, all of them, alive, joking and talking, walking out of the convenience store where they stopped to pick up some snacks. The door jingled as Eric opened the door, slurpee in hand.

Russ could see it as the black hummer approached, he watched, helplessly, as the windows rolled down and guns wielded by people in red hoodies were pointed at the gas station. He tried to yell, to scream, but his throat tightened, not even letting him wheeze out a warning. He could do nothing, but watch his friends die again.

Del was the first to notice. He pushed Russel behind a trash can just before the men in the Hummer opened fire.

Immediately after, it became a near endless staccato of gunfire. It was absolutely deafening. Glass broke, brick exploded. It felt like it would never end, but in reality, it only lasted a few seconds, fifteen, maybe. Fifteen seconds, and all of his friends were dead or dying. Fifteen seconds, no less than two hundred rounds of ammunition.

He saw it as one of them, one figure in a black hoodie, looked back at the scene through the rear window of the vehicle. Their wasn't a face, just a skull with glowing eyes. It stared directly at Russel, lifted a bony hand and mimed shooting a gun.

He winced and ducked his head.

The tires squealed and the Hummer took of before the sirens of cop cars started closing in.

"Russ…" a voice had him looking up. His eyes met Del's. Blood pooled around one of the few people that were bigger than Russel himself. It was deep and red and reflected the street lights around them.

With shaking hands he grabbed his best friend, "Hang on, man." the smell of blood and cordite overwhelmed everything. He could practically taste it. It was on his hands, his clothes. Del coughed and more blood sprayed on his face.

"Russ…" he repeated.

"Just hang on!" the big man cried, "Help's on the way! You gotta stay awake!"

"Russ…" he gasped one last time, and breathed his last gurgling breath.

Before the black man's eyes, the spirit left Del's body, floating into the air. It was then that he noticed that it wasn't just Del, all of them were dead. Each and every one of his friends had been cut down by The Reaper.

He opened his mouth to spout apologies, when as one the spirits streamed into it, possessing his body in tandem. It left its mark, this multi possession, making his normally green eyes glow an unearthly white.

" _Russ…_ " the voice came from inside him now, half a dozen people speaking at once. " _Russ… Russ… Russ! Russel!_ " It got louder and louder, he curled into a ball trying to cover his ears, but it didn't help. It was all around him.

"Russel! Come on, big man," the voice this time was accented, British, and he felt someone tugging at his arms.

"No! Stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Russ, wake up! It's okay, big man!" he felt someone slap him and he looked up. It was the concerned face of his boss. The street faded back into the rear aisle of the Record Shack. The bodies turned back into staring, concerned patrons.

"What-" he swallowed, shakily standing to his feet, "What happened? I saw-"

"Ya had a flashback is all," Rick Black, owner of Rick Black's Record Shack, told him, "It's alright," he looked over his shoulder and saw the staring people, "'Ey! Watcha lookin' at!? Either buy some'fin', or jog on, the lotta ya!"

The various people went back to their shopping, a few with blushes on their faces for being caught staring. A blue haired guy in particular seemed to be looking at something behind Russel, but he left rather quickly.

"Listen, big man. I think you should go home, ya need the rest. Come back fer ya shift tomorrow, an' we'll see how it goes then, okay?"

Looking around again, the hip hop enthusiast nodded. Being alone right now didn't seem like too bad of an idea. He gathered himself together, and left the store, going home to veg out, doing his best not to relive that night again.

The next day, he showed up at the store. Rick gave him a once over and asked, "You cool, now, big man?"

"Yeah," he nodded, though he didn't really feel it. He did feel like he needed to work, though. Focus on the music, Music made everything better.

"Good. Man the counter. Gotta run over to Lottie's. Says she found some'fin' rare in her old storage garage," he pulled on his jacket and stepped out the back door. He held it open for a moment, looking at the son of his friend in the States, "You sure?"

Russel nodded one more time, "Yeah, I don't think it'll happen again. That was the first flashback in a while, ya know?"

Rick just nodded, a dubious look on his face, but he left anyway.

The big man walked over to the counter and started checking on incoming records and receival times. He looked up when the doorbell rang. Coming towards him was a man with one red and one black eye.

 **Noodle**

Subject N00-D13 was decidedly content with its role in life. It had purpose, family and routine. It could not imagine wanting more. It had been educated, of course. It knew of the world. It knew that the world was not its place. N00-D13 belonged on a battlefield. When it was strong enough, it would be placed on one.

Trainer was to make it ready. Trainer taught it tactics, strength, skill. Trainer gave it the necessary routine to make it fast and deadly. Trainer knew its limits, better than any other. For as much it had the ability to do so, N00-D13 liked Trainer.

The subject also felt positive base emotion for its fellow subjects. N09-D13 was physically the largest. It was not a quarter as fast as N00-D13, but could take more hits. It made a good squadmate on the team combat exercises. N17-D13 was also a good partner. That one was being specifically trained as a medic. Its CQC skills were above even that of N00-D13's, but, again, not as strong or fast.

Those were its favorites, much as it could choose things like that, but the subject was… Fond? Yes, fond. It was fond of all of the other subjects.

Mister Kyuzo gave N00-D13 a simple task, in regards to the others.

"N00-D13," the doctor sighed as he said that moniker for the thousandth time, "That is such an annoying mouthful. I must petition to have you given a proper moniker. Anyway," he continued, "You are the first. None of the others will be like you. There is no training they can be given to replace your role. You are the first line of defense. You must protect your brothers and sisters."

"Order confirmed," it replied robotically. Mister Kyuzo ruffled its hair. It made something bloom in the pit of its stomach. Something positive. Warm, like the matting used for its designated recuperation periods. Comfortable. That was the word. Comfortable.

"Good. Now, I want you to remember this as well," he looked it in the eye, "There will come a time, a desperate time, when you can not protect one of your siblings. At that time, if it creates disparity in your programming, you will come to me. You will start to feel things. This is… bad. Repeat, Emotions are corruptive."

"Emotions are corruptive," it repeated dutifully. It knew this. Emotion was a weakness, they muddied the waters of certainty with unnecessary opinion. Emotions were an infection that it must never allow to corrupt it.

"Good," Mister Kyuzo nodded, "Good. If ever you start to _feel_ , come to me. I will… restore you."

"Order Confirmed."

N00-D13 was five cycles at the time it had received those orders. Training had intensified since then. It was put through its paces by Trainer. Each day was a new and difficult examination. Simulated battles and losing scenarios that it and it's fellow subjects were supposed to turn into victories.

The days when dignitaries and generals visited were especially trying. Not even the smallest mistake was tolerated, only the harshest judgement was to be given.

Perhaps that was where everything went wrong.

One cycle later, two generals and Mister Kyuzo were sat in a viewing booth above the mock battle field. The entire N Series of subjects had been separated into two teams, with N17-D13 labeled as neutral medic. It was to go between teams, applying it's skills to keep them alive.

They were not using live rounds, obviously, but the paint pellets had enough sting to let one know when they were hit. It also left marks, and based on those marks, the medic would either apply bandages, or declare them dead.

N00-D13 was the final member of its team. The enemy outnumbered it, and had better weapons. They had been given better gear from the start. It was always going to be a losing proposition. It was worse when a sniper shot immediately hit the team leader in the head, removing it from the simulation. The team fell into ranks, trying to band together, but it was for naught.

There were seven enemies left. N00-D13 had only its own pistol and a knife.

N02-D13, N14-D13, and the team leader, N22-D13 were all heading in its direction, its meager cover was soon going prove useless.

The team leader approached and there was something different about it. N00-D13 observed as the subject's face took on an… _expression._ Subjects were not allowed to have emotion, but were trained to recognize the visual cues.

N22-D13 was _feeling_ pride, excitement. It would occasionally look up at the generals and Mister Kyuzo.

And because of that, because of its corruptive emotions, it was distracted.

Two strokes with N00-D13's knife left black lines of ink on N22-D13's neck, over its carotid arteries. It the took the team leader's mock uzi and gunned down the other two enemies. While they played dead, N00-D13 stripped them of gear and fled the area. It did not miss the outright glare twisting N22-D13's face into something murderous.

Taking stock of its new resources, the subject made a plan of attack.

It positioned itself above and to the left of the remaining four and took aim. A single shot grazed N11-D13's face, making it necessary to call the medic.

N06-D13 remained with the downed subject while N05-D13 and N12-D13 approached the last surviving member of Black Team's last location. They, of course, did not find N00-D13. Instead, the subject had snuck around to the back of Red Team's base, waiting for the medic.

As soon as N17-D13 made the scene, it struck.

The one thing that all of the subjects were told was that the medic was a resource. For your own forces, they were invaluable. If they were working for the enemy, they were the bane of your existence. Protecting yours and killing theirs could win the day.

In this exercise it was never explicitly stated, but it was implied that neither team should target the medic. N17-D13 was a neutral entity, not part of either team. To shoot that subject would remove both teams' resource.

N00-D13 shot the medic in both arms and fled before N06-D13 could think to take aim.

"It is here!" N06-D13 shouted to its teammates. They hurried back and took up position around their injured member and the now useless medic.

"Direction?"

"Section fourteen. Fled. Likely circling to the right. Easier navigation."

"Negative. Subject N00-D13 is light and agile. Will climb protrusion in section seven. Sniper's nest. It is best we mo-" the third speaker was interrupted by a pellet grenade going off in the air over the five of them, showering them in red paint. It was one of their own grenades.

N00-D13 was praised for this tactic.

"Except for N00-D13," trainer started, once he had the entire group before him, "That was pathetic! If I had my way none of you would be allowed to sleep for the next three days as I ran you into the ground! The only reason any of you will be allowed to sleep at all is because of you!" he pointed once more at N00-D13, "Were it not for N00- Fuck it! If it were not for _Noodle_ 's quick thinking and application of guerilla tactics, the lot of you would be running until your feet bled!" N00-D13, no, Noodle was confused by this. Its designation had been changed. Why? What purpose did this serve?

N22-D13, for the briefest of moments, glared at Noodle.

It would not be the last time it saw emotion in the faces of its fellow subjects.

From that day forward, every training session had far worse consequences. Trainer, it seemed, had been embarrassed by the poor showing of the N Series. Having only one soldier come out alive, even if it was just a mock battle, was terrible.

The next time a team lost, they were forced to run laps until they collapsed. The time after that, they scrubbed dishes until their hands were raw and bloody.

Since being given its new designation, Noodle had thus far avoided such punishments. It was, in its own way, worse than failing. Noodle began to be held separate from the rest of the N Series, above them. All of them could see it.

A hand that used to ruffle its hair in private, now did so in public. Privileges were levied its way with each victory. Noodle's simple matt had been replaced with an actual bed.

It came to a head one day. It was just after the second daily meal, and they were sparring with one another. This day they were using rubber knives with steel cores. Noodle's opponent was N22-D13.

At the start, its face remained blank as it fought against Noodle. However, with every slash dodged or parried, with every charge avoided, and with every blow it took, it began to lose its facade of control.

Finally, it dashed in. It knocked Noodle's retaliatory slash aside, and went for the grapple. Noodle struggled, but was momentarily enclosed in N22-D13's grip.

"I _hate_ you," he whispered to the subject.

Noodle did not freeze, did not gasp in shock, did not let a tear come to its eyes as it realized its youngest sibling hated it. Instead, it turned that moment of inattention to its benefit. Noodle worked its left arm free by first dislocating it, tossed the knife to its left hand, popped its arm back in, and slashed the boy's neck three times. The strikes were so quick that they left red marks.

In a normal circumstance, this would be the end of it. The losing subject would remove themself from the spar, or tap out. It was the proper procedure.

N22-D13 screamed in rage and pain and threw Noodle away from himself. He was already running at it, blinded by his anger.

Noodle dropped its fake weapon and held its hands ready. It proceeded to dismantle him with a brutal efficiency.

When he finally fell to the ground for a final time, whimpering in pain, letting out the occasional scream of utter hate tinged with profanity, Noodle finally noticed the rest of the room. The rest of the N Series were staring at the two of them.

No, that wasn't quite right. From N01-D13 to N21-D13, every single one of them were staring at the boy on the ground. N22-D13 had ceased to be, the only thing on the matt before them was a child, a little boy, throwing a tantrum.

For Noodle, it reaffirmed its desire to never be infected by emotion. For the rest of N Series, it was an eye opener. More so when Trainer grabbed the boy by his neck, carried him out of the room and returned without him.

"Back to work!" Trainer barked, "Noodle, your footwork was sloppy. You should have ended that boy in three moves. Spar with N17-D13."

"Order Confirmed."

They never saw the boy again.

Two months later, it was N05-D13. One moment it was preparing for another war game, the next she was making a break for the exit. She stabbed the security guard with a sharpened plastic spoon and nearly made it outside.

A third deviated when a general was there to witness. It was N17-D13. She had been acting strange for days. In the middle of training she stood apart from the others and spoke loudly, a live steel blade in hand.

"I am not your doll!" She threw the knife at Trainer. Noodle intercepted the implement, while four of the others tackled the girl to the ground. She, too, was taken away.

Then it all went to hell.

Three more broke their programming. Two, violently. The third maintained for two full days before breaking into Trainer's office and begging for leniency.

They were all taken, and psychological exams became mandatory. Eight more were discovered before they cracked and were taken away for 'remedial conditioning.'

"One more," Noodle overheard Mister Kyuzo talking to Trainer one day, "One more deviation and the plug will be pulled. We will be fired and the subjects terminated."

"Fuck," Trainer grumbled, "How do we prevent it?"

"We have already done everything we can. It was my thought that they could be taught to ignore their emotions if we got them young enough. I used my own daughter, but…" the doctor heaved a great sigh, "We must hope. Hope and pray, that none of the others discover their emotions."

There was silence for a moment, then Trainer spoke again, "Your daughter. Is it-"

"Yes," Mister Kyuzo interrupted with a grunt, "It doesn't matter, they will all be killed, even her, if another one fails."

The two men walked off, then. Noodle had to consider that it had not heard that exchange on accident. Trainer seemed to be unerringly well informed about the location of every subject in the facility. He had to know that it was there.

But why? Why have such an exchange where it could hear? Luckily, it had been trained to examine every inch of critical information, including the source.

Mister Kyuzo had said that they had done all they could to prevent another subject from defying their programming. Unless it was far off the mark, that meant it was now responsible for the others. Aside from itself, only six remained. It would need them to understand the full stakes.

"We will be killed," it said when it had finally gathered the last of them, "If that makes you feel fear, then it is already too late. Emotion is the cause, the corruption. Mister Kyuzo educated us in this manner. It is not a new discovery. We have seen the result of emotion overriding the others. If that happens to one more of us, we all die." Noodle scanned the group, and, for the first time, felt sadness.

Four of them showed visible signs of fear. She could also not ignore herself. _She_ felt _sad._ It was a betrayal of everything Mister Kyuzo had taught them, and she herself was doing it.

Remembering his words, brought the smallest amount of hope, damning as even that emotion was.

The next day, she met with the man.

"Mister Kyuzo," she began, "I understand now. What you ordered, about seeking you out if the loss of the other subjects started to interfere with my programming."

"Oh, Noodle," the man sighed, his eyes becoming glossy with his own depression, "Not you."

The girl didn't respond immediately, watching as he sat down slowly. He pulled a bottle of scotch from his desk and drank straight from the neck. He rubbed one hand down his face, then regarded her again.

"At that time," she started again, "You told me that you could restore me," Noodle tilted her head to one side as she registered the change of his expression, "Can you do the same to the others?"

"Yes," he mumbled to himself, "The codes. It may be the only way. If Hayato finds out- No," he looked at Noodle and gave the briefest hint of a sad smile, "Even deviant, you are the star of the program, N00-D13. You are right. The only choice left is to restore you. Back to factory settings, so to speak. But there is a problem."

"What is the issue?"

" _Surf'n'Turf._ "

Without her input, Noodle's arms and legs snapped into tight formation, standing with her chin held high, ready to receive orders. She was still conscious, still able to move her eyes, but nothing else even twitched.

"You, Noodle, are the only one for whom these codes will work," he sighed, "You may never forgive me for this, but I can not let you die with the other failures," the man kneeled before her, placing his hands on her shoulders, "You are my daughter, Noodle."

The little girl's eyes widened as she looked at Mister Kyuzo. Her, she was his daughter. It explained many things. Why the man only ever seemed to request her presence. Why it was she who received positive physical contact. Why he cared so much, knowing she would be put to death.

"You were never given a name, aside from Noodle, so that will do," he stood up, "I will erase this," he gestured broadly at the room, but she understood that he meant the entire facility, "from your mind. But I will also not leave you with nothing. When I say the final code, you will remember none of this, not even this conversation," he paused, "I can see this frightens you. That is alright. Just know that, with as much sincerity as I have left to give, I do love you."

Noodle fought against the mental restraints holding her in place, terrified of what came next. If she did not remember who she was, how she came to be, would that not be the same as death? If she lost her purpose, what would she live for?

" _Salisbury_."

Noodle found her thoughts growing foggy now, even that no longer under her control.

"Retain skill: Guitarist. Purpose, infiltration."

"Order confirmed. Additional input?"

"Retain skill: Close Quarters Combat. Purpose, self defense."

"Order confirmed. Additional input?"

"Retain skill: Language, Japanese, spoken."

"Order confirmed. Additional input?" A single tear rolled down Noodle's cheek. This would be the end, she could feel it. She would never see the others again. Everything she knew would be gone.

"Retain Designation: Noodle."

"Order Confirmed. Additional input?"

"Negative."

"Orders confirmed. Skills: Guitarist, CQC, Japanese(spoken). Designation: Noodle. Confirm?"

"Confirm," the man pulled Noodle into an embrace, holding her close to him for a second, "Goodbye, Noodle, my daughter. _Ocean Bacon._ "

 **Murdoc**

Murdoc Niccals, thirty one years of age, was unimaginably pissed. He had been for years, really.

He put a bottle of beer to his lips and tilted it up, but nothing came out.

"Piss on me," he growled and threw it at the wall. It shattered loudly and he got up and stumbled to the fridge. Ripping it open, he found a disheartening lack of alcohol. He growled once more and scratched his butt as he dug through the cabinets for anything with alcohol. Nothing.

"Piss on me!" he barked, slamming one of the cabinets closed.

Nothing had gone his way since he was seventeen.

He grabbed the keys to his cadillac and pulled on some clothes that didn't smell too bad. He stumbled down the stairs and almost smashed his face into the driver side window.

Not since he was seventeen, when he tried to sell his soul to Satan. He'd taken his time, studied as much as he could, set everything up perfectly.

It took three tries to get the keys in the lock, two more to get the engine to start. The black car roared to life.

Murdoc had written up the contract before hand, using his own blood. And wasn't that a bitch and a half to do. Took three days of constantly pricking his wrist before he got his hands on a needle and some rubber tubing.

Using that, he poured about a hundred milliliters of blood into a jar, and used that to finish writing the contract. The paper was made from the skin of a goat he had killed himself.

He had to park his car about three blocks from the booze shop. They never sold to him when he was driving, the bastards!

It was a simple contract, really. All he wanted was wealth, health, women and fame. Nothing outrageous. Some might call it petty, trading his immortal soul for such fleeting comforts, but really, he wasn't using it for anything else.

Sure, he could have listened to his gran, gone to church, been a minister. He could have studied more in school. Could have practiced with his bass guitar until his fingers bled.

But that sounded boring as all hell. Why should he have to do any of that when he could just get famous and rich and without any of the effort.

Murdoc staggered into _Traci's Fine Liqueurs_ and made his way to the counter.

"Hey there, Trace," he greeted with what he felt was a smooth grin, "Yer as beautiful as ever."

The elderly woman is unimpressed.

"Money, Niccals, all I want is your money. Flattery gets ya nothing," she grumbled for a moment, "You walking?"

"Here an' back, luv," he held a hand up before him, "On my life, I swear."

The old woman just eyed him suspiciously, then pressed a button on the register.

"Grand, luv," he pulled out a wad of cash, crinkled and crunched together, "A six pack and a tumbler of Bullet Bourbon."

The old woman grunted at him, and fetched the requested drinks.

Contract in one hand, black bible in the other, Murdoc recited a verse of backwards Latin. The room was lit only by red candles, an upside down pentagram was on the floor, and the head of a goat lay in its center. Inhuman writing was on every wall.

Traci came back with the beer and bourbon. She took a solid minute of grumbling to untangle the money into separate bills and give him his change.

"Yer a saint, Trace," he winked at her.

"If I were a saint I'd ban you from the premises," she retorted.

Murdoc just smiled and left. He wasn't even twenty feet out the door when he cracked the first beer and chugged it, letting out a happy 'aaaah' when he was done. He made it back to his car, already nursing the second beer.

He recited the Latin and cut his hand, letting it drip over the goat head in the center of the circle.

A strong wind blew through the room. The candles were snuffed, the door slammed open and closed, a chill went up the teenaged Murdoc's spine.

And that was it.

"Wanker," the man growled in his cadillac, thinking back to the Satanic face he used to worship. He drowned his anger in more alcohol. He was at his third already, and wallowing in his anger and self pity.

After the ritual, he had expected his desires to be met. Money, physique, women, notoriety. He had hoped for his body to fill out with muscle, make him irresistibly sexy. That would lead directly into the women part.

At seventeen, like most straight males, Murdoc had a healthy interest in in the female form. He wanted them, he wanted all the beautiful women he could handle and more. He had his favorites, of course, body types that he especially desired, but he just liked women in general.

The very next day, he walked up to the prettiest girl in his class.

"How 'bout a roll in the hay with a real man?" he waggled his eyebrows at her.

For a moment, there was silence, then laughter.

"How about you bathe more than once a week?" she sneered at him and walked on.

"What?" he asked himself, glaring at the floor. What was that? She shouldn't have been able to resist him! Did he mess that part up? He had to check the contract.

At home he checked the document and read it through very carefully. Wealth, health, women and fame. That's what he wanted. That's what it said. Maybe it was the order of the contract. Money would come first, then health, _then_ women.

He had to wonder how that would happen. Would he just find cash? Would he inherit it from a great uncle he never knew he had? Maybe his gran would wise up and just give him money.

Eight months later, when Murdoc was starting to lose faith, his grandmother died of old age. He knew she was rolling in it, the old skinflint, but she never gave him more than a small, monthly stipend. Now, he grinned to himself in his bathroom, it would be all his. He was the only one left that it could be given to, after all.

"'And to my grandson, Murdoc Niccals, I grant only the continuation of his monthly stipend. It shall be increased by ten pounds each month, if he has a job and is a contributing member to society. If he refuses to do so, it will remain only at two thousand pounds a month.'"

"What?!" Murdoc roared in the solicitor's office, "That old-" he cut himself off, and turned to the lawyer, "How do I get more?"

"The terms are very clear, Mister Niccals. You should feel some comfort in knowing that you will have that money to rely on," the solicitor obviously had no care for Murdoc's dream of a plush life.

The black haired young man grit his teeth so hard that they almost cracked.

That day he went home, sure that nothing had come of his decision to sell his soul. He hadn't gotten rich, didn't have the body of an adonis, didn't have women hanging off his arms, and he certainly wasn't famous! It was all a bunch of bull shit! He tore down all the posters, shredded the manuscripts, burnt the black bible and broke the sacrificial knife.

" **Murdoc! You would forsake your dark master?!** " a voice came out of the fire, the flames turning purple and green.

For a moment, the teen was scared witless. It was all real! Satan, selling his soul, it was all real. The contract! _It_ was real… then, why was he sitting in his piss hole of an apartment?

"Damn right, I do!" he stood up, "We've got a contract, eh? An' you ain't held up your end!" he stomped towards the purple flame, working up a good head of steam.

" **Insolent mortal! You think to demand the- What are you doing?!** "

"You've pissed me off," Murdoc grinned, unzipping his pants, "Now, I'm gonna piss on you!" He proceeded to relieve himself, dousing the flame with his yellow stream.

"Ha!" The adult Murdoc barked a laugh as he thought back on that moment.

A horn blared, startling him. He swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding being hit.

"Wanker!" he leaned out of the cadillac to wave his fist at the truck driver. He pulled himself back in, just in time to see some walking twat in the road.

"Piss on me!" he yelled, swerving back to the right, hopping the curve and busting through the sidewall of an old instrument shop that specialized in keyboards. The brick and mortar shattered his windshield and he had to cover his face lest the shards get in his eyes. He barely registered his car clipping some blue haired kid in the side of his head.

As the dust started to settle, he pushed himself out of his car to observe the damage. Too much, is what. He'd never be able to afford fixing all this. He'd have to pull temp jobs for the rest of the summer to get it working again. He took a final chug of his beer and tossed it aside.

That was when he noticed the kid with the blue hair again. He was slumped over on the ground and blood was coming out of the side of his head. More than that, his left eye was filling up with more blood, turning the whole thing an eerie red.

Murdoc crouched down in front of him, another growl in his throat, "Oy, wake up!" he smacked the teen, trying to get him to respond. The last thing he needed was a manslaughter charge on top of everything else. "C'mon!" he smacked him again.

Suddenly, the kid sat up straight, his eyes zeroing in on the man in front of him. The bloody red eye turned black as the void and he grabbed Murdoc by the arms, standing up and hauling the man along with an unnatural strength.

"What the-"

"Once upon a time, at the foot of a great mountain," the voice the kid spoke with was a mix of his own and something much deeper, "there was a town, where the people known as happy folk lived."

It occured to Murdoc, then, that he was receiving a prophecy. He listened carefully and memorized every word. He stared into that pure black eye, and a smirk grew across his face. He suddenly had a damn good idea of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

The blue haired kid, Stuart according to the name tag, collapsed back to the ground after delivering the prophecy, but his left eye remained that pure black that absorbed light.

+-909

AN: I messed with 2-D's age for no good reason and refuse to undo it.

Please, Enjoy.


	12. Chapter 12 Gen-13

**The Gorillaz Simulation, _Clint Eastwood,_ was proving to have a rather high word count in each chapter. It has been given its own file, under the previously mentioned title.**

 _The Sacrifice_

Just before I stepped through the portal that I had spent my entire life researching and creating, I thought about the truth of my actions. What was I doing?

I was going to give my life, for nothing more than the idea that I could change for the better the lives of five teens in a fictional world. I had spent my life, all of it after a revelation, on a project to change a story.

I felt more accomplished than any person in existence.

I stepped through the portal.

"Good evening," I said, stepping into the sitting room of the Gen Thirteen team. I was immediately met with five teenagers getting ready to attack, if I made the slightest move, "Please, Fairchild, Burnout, Grunge, Freefall, Rainmaker, I am not here to fight. Only to speak. I promise. May I please sit? My bones are not what they used to be." I stood, leaning heavily on my cane, hoping they would acquiesce.

"Who the hell are you, old man?" Rainmaker, Sarah, demanded of me.

"I am Jona, and I've come bearing great news," the IO personnel were scrambling ratkillers as I spoke, but it was already too late. I was here and they couldn't stop me. They never even knew to expect me.

"What? What news?" Eddie asked.

"When you met the Authority, they told you that you were a danger to the multiverse, and when you met the Authoriteens- oh, do stop that crackling, Rainmaker, I said I'm not here to fight and I meant it," I waved away the obvious threat of her lightning at the mention of the group of teens from another world, "When you met those youngsters, they told you the very same and that you should simply kill yourselves to end the suffering, yours and everyone else's."

"Yeah," Fairchild said, "They told us to do that, look how it turned out for them."

"Yes, most depressing," I smiled, showing my dentures, "Don't worry, Eddie. No one here blames you. You did the right thing, though it may be hard to see at the moment," I addressed them all again, "They were right. Your very existence creates suffering. To the universe, the _multiverse_ , you are cancer. You will kill everything you touch, turn to cinder all you love. Even one another," I was making them mad enough that they didn't hear the armed soldiers stomping up the stairs until the last second, when they busted through the door, then froze, "Just as well, we need to be elsewhere for this next bit anyway," I said, stamping my cane on the ground, teleporting myself and the victims of Gen Thirteen into one of my favorite worlds, Bioshock Infinite. I waved to one of the many Elisabeths and Bookers as they passed, though it seemed to confuse the girl for only a moment. She looked to her guardian, her father. I nodded. She smiled and tackled the man in a hug.

"Who was that?" Bobby asked, staring at the dark haired girl.

"Someone so far out of your league, boy, that you would do best to forget her," I said, perhaps cruelly.

"What, but I wasn't-"

"Let us continue. You are all cancer. Your future was grim. Sarah, you would become the rainmaker for a village after the apocalypse, until your faux lover drained you of all power, killing you. You went this route because Caitlyn can not return your love, during a time when you need it most. Eddie, Roxy, you left soon after, traveling deep into space, looking for a new home with the Paladins. Your ship suffered severe mechanical failure. You died of oxygen deprivation while in stasis. Bobby, Caitlyn, after the loss of your old friends, and more new ones, you eventually began to fall for one another, but a radioactive fire killed Bobby's body and replaced it with living radiation, for which even you could not survive Caitlyn. He would try, not for years, or decades, but for centuries, to control it. Even with your long life, you were never able to touch him again. Stricken with remorse, Bobby, you allowed yourself to fade into nothing. You moved into space and simply… dispersed. That is your future," I told them," no more."

"How…" Fairchild began, "How do you know all of this? How _can_ you?"

"Because," I turned to her, my body slowly regressing in age until I was only seventy three, "Where I come from, you are all only fiction. I watched you suffer and die for the entertainment of others and have now spent," I looked at my watch, "eighty seven years building a device that would allow me to undo what was done to you.

"In the city, New York, when you return, a new life will await you. One without the International Operations, one without the uncompromising hate. One without an apocalypse. You will not be a cancer, a blight, you will be its cure. Rather than kill all that you touch, you will revitalize it. Rather than burn all that you love, you will instead make it last. Where you were once weak, you will be strong," I smiled, feeling my strength return as I regressed further. Fifty now.

"How?" the redheaded amazon asked again, "How can you do that? What will it cost?"

"It will cost nothing, not for you. I am going to die, children. I am going to sacrifice myself to the true universe, so that you may live," I smiled and held up my hand, to forestall their complaints, "I'm not doing it for just you. The man and girl you saw, they are saved as well. Along with millions, trillions, _quintillions_ of others. The man's name was Booker Dewitt. In his grief over the death of his beloved wife in childbirth, he sold his child. Anna became Elisabeth, Dewitt became Comstock. Dewitt fought against Comstock, he fights now, in all the lights you see in the sky," I pointed up at the night sky filled with stars, "And yet, every time they fight, Comstock creates another of himself. He changes Dewitt, and is killed by him. When I sacrifice myself for you, I will be doing it for him as well."

"Why do you have to die?" Grunge asked. The emotions on the teens' faces were plain to see. Sadness, regret, confusion, sympathy. "Why do you have to sacrifice yourself?"

"I don't," I laughed, at peace as I finally sat down, a chair appearing beneath my bottom, "I don't have to do anything. But as a great man once said, a man chooses, a slave obeys. Right now, you are slaves. Tied to a destiny that was meant to wear down the hearts of others. I am choosing to change that. A man chooses. I have chosen. You are slaves no more. Now, I have a final gift for each of you. Rainmaker, you are first."

"Why?" the indian girl almost sobbed to me, "We are just fiction to you. We don't matter, you shouldn't have to do this!"

I pulled the girl into a hug and wiped away her tears, "Because I love you, Sarah. That is all a person needs. Love. I have felt it, and still feel it. For you and Bobby and Eddie, Roxy and Caitlyn. I feel it for Booker and Elisabeth. For so many and for a single woman. I love you, Sarah," I repeated, crushing her with another hug, "With all my heart I love you," I wiped away her tears and smiled at her, "My gift to you is the woman you met. You already know that you love her. What you don't know is that she is another Gen Active, a spy for IO. From the moment of my death, she will be exactly the woman she portrayed herself as, with no connections, no liaisons. Just her life's work, and her love for you," I kissed her forehead, and she moved aside.

"Eddie Chang," I motioned him forward. I did not hug him, not yet. "Your gift is the removal of a burden. Kid Apollo, he will not be dead as soon as I am. That thing you hated to do, you will not have done. And you will never need to do it again. I also leave you with this," I held out a card made of metal, "May you never go hungry again." I hugged him and kissed his forehead.

"Roxanne Spaulding," I opened my arms, "The one thing you want more than anything else, I cannot give you, but I can tell you a secret," she all but dove into my arms, surprisingly the most emotional of the bunch, "Eddie likes you," I whispered, "But you cannot play hard to get with him. He doesn't understand it. He will think you hate him. That it's just another crush he'll never get to have. Love him, Roxy. Love all of him," I squeezed her tight and kissed her forehead.

"Bobby Lane."

"You don't have to do this," he said to me, hesitantly stepping forward, "You don't need to do this."

"I don't, but I will anyway. Just as I told Sarah, I love you Bobby, you and so many more that your life will touch. And that is my gift. Your college tuition is paid. Your educators are even aware of your abilities and that, sometimes, one must fight for their beliefs. I know you will not abuse this gift. And I will not hug you, if you do not want it," I offered my hand to him, but _he_ hugged _me_ instead. I kissed his forehead and he moved to the side.

"Caitlyn Fairchild, my lovely girl. To few have told you that you are honestly beautiful. It is not this form that genetics have gifted you with, but all of you, every metaphorical inch. To you I grant one thing that may not seem like much now, but will be everything as the world turns. You are, at this time, capable of only a fraction of your true power. When my heart stops, you will have it all back. Mountains will shift with your ire, and no bullet shall ever again pierce your flesh. Like Bobby, I know you will not abuse this," I hugged her and kissed her forehead. I stood then, taking a deep contented breath.

"I love you," and then, I died. I fell into the waves below us, sinking as my heart stopped beating. And a ripple was sent across the everywhere.

For the teens, the lighthouse and ocean faded and they were back in their hotel room in New York. Midnighter was standing in the room, collapsed and unconscious ratkillers all around him.

"Something changed," he said, looking at the teens, "What happened? Where were you?"

"You were right," Fairchild said, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, "There was something wrong with us. We were making the universe decay around us, like cancer."

"This old dude popped up out of nowhere," Grunge continued, "He said he was here to help. He… he did. He changed it, us, everything."

"How?" the man in black demanded.

"He fed himself to the core of the multiverse as a sacrifice. He told us that he loved us and that he was doing it for us and _quintillions_ of others. He made it so we're not cancer anymore," Fairchild said, finally.

Midnighter stared at them for a few more moments, then shrugged, "Whatever happened, you aren't a threat… well, not in a way that could reshape the universe as we know it. You, for lack of a better term, belong here, now."


	13. Chapter 13 All Out, Claws Out

_Part Three, The Observer_

For the last two years of her academy life, Sakura absolutely loathed Naruto. It was like the boy was fully retarded. He never took the hint, or the outright insulting rejections, and left her alone.

That all changed when the boy became a female cat demon. With it came a less than subtle shift in personality.

Gone was the loud brash idiot and in his place was a quiet, languid, extremely strong and fast idiot. Watching her nap in a sunbeam, her white cat ears occasionally twitching? It was something the boy from before could never have done.

More than that, perhaps the most prominent change had been Naruto's interactions with Sasuke. Before, all the prodigy had to do to get Naruto to insult and attack him was exist.

Now, Sasuke had actually tried to _bait_ the cat girl into fighting, and she had brushed him off!

Compared to that, Naruto dealing Kiba a one hit K.O. really wasn't that impressive.

"Cats suck," Kiba said with a sneer as he entered the preliminary arena for the final part of the second exam. His puppy, Akamaru, was cowering in a corner, but the dog boy was determined to prove that the Deadlast was still a loser, especially because she was part cat.

Naruto just stared at him with those freaky eyes of hers, not saying a word.

Kiba growled and held his hands out before him, the fingers curled into claws.

The moment the judge, a Jounin named Hayate, said go, the Inuzuka boy dashed in as fast as he could, intending to shoulder check the girl. Sakura heard his sensei, one Kurenai Yuuhi, sigh in disappointment and turn away.

At the last possible second, Naruto dodged and kicked the boy in the back as he passed, sending him into the wall much harder than he had intended to go. He was out cold before he even hit the floor. Yuuhi just shook her head. She had warned her student about Naruto. He obviously didn't listen.

"Cats rule," Naruto said with a grin, "Dogs drool."

And so it went. Sasuke, being the first match, had won it against his opponent with some difficulty. Sakura knocked herself out alongside Ino. Naruto was obviously on route to the finals.

Before the cat girl could even ask, Kakashi told them that he would be helping Sasuke cope with his Cursed mark for the month that was allotted to training. Naruto just shrugged. She might have been jealous before, but now she was just eager to go take a long nap.

For Sakura, a month passed in a flash. Sakura saw nothing of her teammates. Not, that is, until the day of the finals.

She had shown up early, of course, hoping to get the best seat available. She was surprised when the blonde cat demon plopped down beside her, arms crossed and looking annoyed.

"What's wrong, Naruto?" The pinkette asked.

"Adults are stupid," the cat girl huffed, "No one will just train me! _No!_ It always has to be some stupid, complicated, twelve steps of bullshit to make a girl waste her time!" She huffed again, her tail lashing back and forth with her ire, "Old Man Jiraiya wanted me to summon toads and use the Kyuubi's chakra. Did he tell me that? No! He told me to cut my thumb and put my blood on a piece of paper. Demon blood is acidic, by the way. No summoning for me. Then, the old pervert tries to get me to use the kyuubi's chakra…" it was at that point that Sakura was staring at her with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"What?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Naruto blushed, "I kinda have the Nine Tailed Fox sealed in me. It's a thing."

"Is that how-"

"I don't think so," the blonde interrupted, guessing what she would say, "The old pervert knocked me off a cliff and I guess I took a nap on the way down," Naruto would never say that she fainted, "I met the Kyuubi, kinda. He just screamed at me. Kept trying to get away and was saying something about he thought 'they' were lying! I don't even know," her orange claws dug into the chair she was sitting on, "I spent a month on this! I can't summon toads, I can't call on the furry bastard's chakra! The only freakin' thing I learned was how to walk on water!"

Sakura just continued to stare at the boy turned girl. Naruto had the _Nine Tailed Fox_ sealed inside of her, and it was _afraid_ of her. Just what had Naruto become, really? What kind of creature could inspire fear in the greatest of all demons to walk the Elemental Countries? Certainly not a Nekomata. Not the usual ones, at least.

Forty minutes later, when the first matches were announced, Sasuke turned out to be a no show.

The judges decided to push his match against Gaara to last place, what with Kakashi being eternally late likely being the cause for Sasuke's tardiness.

(Kakashi and Sasuke were at the former's house, using the Sharingan to cheat at poker. Loser had to do the dishes.)

Naruto's Match against Neji was somewhat strange. First, with Hinata, the boy's cousin shyly poking her fingers together next to Sakura and Ino.

"I hope Naruto doesn't take Neji too seriously," she said quietly, "He does like his Fate rants, but he's really not as… er… I just hope he doesn't upset her…"

"Neji was top of his class," Ino scoffed, "He's got a year of experience on top of it and-"

" _Begin!_ "

Interrupted by the start of the match, the three girls watched intently.

It started off extremely slow.

"You should just give up," Neji told the cat demon, "I know all about you. Last of your class, only passed by technicality. You aren't skilled in Taijutsu, Genjutsu, or Ninjutsu. I heard you've become fast and strong, but that won't help you if you don't have the skill to back it up," he slid into the first stance of the Gentle Fist, "As I said, you should give up. You are fated to lose here."

The blonde horror eyed him for a few moments as she crouched down, resting on her hands and feet like a regular cat, "Are you stupid?"

"What?"

"Do you have the slightest idea how fast I am?" her ears tilted this way and that as she spoke, never blinking at her opponent, "More speed than skill and half that in strength. You've totally got that right. But do you think you actually _know_ how fast I am?"

"It does not matter," the boy growled, "You are fated to lose here, to me."

"Uh-huh, well, let me ask one more thing," she began to lean forward, "If Lee had ever gone all out on you, could you keep up?" The muscles on her legs began to tighten, readying for movement, "What about your sensei? Are you faster than him?"

Before Neji could attempt an answer, Naruto did to him what Kiba had tried to do to her, shoulder checking the Hyuuga boy into the wall of the arena. The prodigy barely had time to reinforce his body with Chakra before he hit the wall. It still hurt like hell and knocked the breath out of his lungs.

"I am." He could hear her say, clear across the arena.

He pushed himself to his knees, then to his feet and turned to Naruto to retort.

"Where-?" He grunted. She was gone! Not a hint of her anywhere. " _Byakugan!_ " The boy whispered, activating his eye technique. He immediately dove forward in a roll. He got back up, glaring at the claw marks on the wall, directly above his previous position, and spun off to his left.

This had him skidding back, finally facing his opponent.

Naruto was crouched down again, staring at him with a blank face.

"You know," she began, "Hinata is really nice. She's soft spoken, and shy, and makes these neet little fishcakes that just taste _awesome_ in ramen," her orange claws dug into the arena floor, "Most Importantly, she's a _Cat Person_."

Naruto attacked again. She held herself back to something that would leave the boy alive, but put him in traction long enough to think about his actions.

Neji didn't see her move. He didn't feel the impact against the wall, nor his legs break. He didn't hear the Jounin call the match. His next conscious thought, some two weeks later, was that he should probably stop tormenting his cousin, as long as she had such an… interesting friend.

"Winner by knockout, Naruto Uzumaki!"

"What?" Ino almost cried, shocked by the outcome.

"Oh, what a relief!" Hinata sighed contentedly, "I was afraid she was really going to hurt him."

Sakura and Ino looked at the Hyuuga Heiress, then at the boy who was out cold, both legs bent at odd angles. Naruto sauntered, actually sauntered, back up to the balcony seats. She sat down next to Hinata and the bluenette started scratching behind the cat demon's ears.

"So…" Sakura drawled, "When did this happen?"

"Oh!" Hinata seemed to realize they had an audience and blushed profusely, "Well, that is…"

"Apparently, Hinata likes me," Naruto said, nudging her head back into the smaller girl's hand, "I guess that's been a thing for while, right 'Nata?"

The human girl nodded, still blushing.

"I still like girls, ya know? And Hinata likes me," Naruto shrugged, "So, we're together."

"Uh-huh," Sakura crossed her arms, "But when did this start?"

"A month before these exams, I believe," Hinata finally spoke again, entwining her fingers with Naruto's. The blonde wrapped her tail around the girl's leg.

"But how!?" Ino was losing her patience! She needed details, damn it!

" _Shino Aburame, winner by forfeit._ "

"Well, that's unfortunate. Now Shika knows he can quit. What do you think he'll do?" Naruto turned to the other blonde.

"Like hell, he's quitting!" Ino roared getting out of her seat and storming down the steps to the competitor's area. The next match was called to start. Shikamaru was kicked out of a window by a screaming girl that could only be his teammate.

"Nice deflection," Sakura drawled.

"Don't even know what that means," Naruto grinned. Hinata was still blushing heavily, but seemed content to have the demon right there with her.

Sakura would have tried to dig deeper, but Naruto was very pointedly watching the match going on before them.

It lasted quite a while, but eventually ended with Shikamaru's forfeit. Ino was furious.

And now it was final call for Sasuke's match. His absence stretched on and on. Gaara was visibly getting angrier and angrier, a twitch developing above his eye.

In the Hokage's private booth, the Kazekage beside him, Sarutobi shook his head.

"We have no choice. Bat," an ANBU operative stepped forward, "Inform Hayate that Sasuke has been disqualified." The ninja nodded and started to leave.

"Is that wise?" The Kazekage asked.

The Third held up his hand, stopping his ninja from leaving just yet.

"Sasuke is late, beyond late, actually. We have already pushed his match to the end of the first round. I understand that he might be on his way this very minute, but this is unacceptable," he looked at the other man, "Would you promote a ninja who could not be counted on to show up on time?"

"Well, no, but I feel rather let down, missing a chance to see your prodigal Last Uchiha and my son fight. I feel it would be quite the spectacle," the Kazekage looked him in the eye.

"That is easy to arrange. Bat, Sasuke remains disqualified. Inform Hayate that there will be an exhibition match, as soon as Sasuke arrives. He will face off against the winner of the tournament," The ANBU nodded and left.

The Third turned back to the man he knew to be Orochimaru in disguise, "That should satisfy, I think."

Down in the arena, Hayate made the announcement.

"Now, will Naruto Uzumaki and Shino Aburame please enter the arena."

Naruto gave Hinata's hand one last squeeze and jumped from the balcony to the arena below. She landed with nary a sound and didn't even make a cloud of dust. She then sauntered over to the proctor.

Shino made his own way into the arena. When he finally stood in front of the cat demon that had destroyed his teammate in the prelims a month ago, he felt curiosity. The colony of chakra eating bugs inside him seemed hesitant to attach to the monster. An instinctual response?

"Begin." Hayate jumped away.

Unlike the fight with Neji, Naruto didn't immediately attack the boy across from her. He hadn't done anything to annoy her. He was also her girlfriend's teammate. She really didn't want to hurt him.

But she also wanted to win.

"Um-"

"I forfeit," the boy said.

"Oh," she blinked at him, "thanks."

"I forfeit, too!" Temari almost screamed when she realized she'd have to fight her little brother.

"Hmm," Hayate made a curious sound, then shrugged, "Alright, final match, Naruto Uzumaki against Gaara of The Desert."

Gaara teleported into the arena, glaring at Naruto, "If you forfeit," he growled, "I will kill everything you love."

The cat demon narrowed her eyes and crouched down to the ground. Her legs bulged, almost obscenely, as she prepared to pounce.

"Begin!"

Before the jounin could jump away, Naruto was on Gaara like a fat kid on cake. There was an explosion of Sand as she appeared on his other side, skidding to a stop fifty feet away.

She twirled around, crouched low and dashed in again. Another explosion of sand. Another. Another. _Another!_ It was happening so quick that Naruto was leaving after images of herself.

Gaara had trouble keeping up with Rock Lee when he'd gone all out. Now he couldn't even guess where the girl was.

"Oh, lord in heaven above!" Sakura gasped, "The hell did he say to her?"

Finally the boy decided there was only one way of dealing with this. He pulled his sand into a sphere around himself. It was extremely dense, nearly impossible to penetrate. _Nearly_ impossible.

There was a crack like thunder and suddenly Gaara was face to face with the cat monster. The sphere he had created had a massive hole in it, leaking in the sunlight. She grabbed his hands by the wrist.

"You know something?" She said, her eyes glowing in the dim light, "It seems to me that you don't get much use out of these. I'll just take them away for you." There was a wet ripping sound and Gaara was alone again. Minus his arms. In their place were two bleeding stumps. The sand dome fell as Gaara screamed in pain and fear. Naruto was quickly declared winner and the boy was taken away on a stretcher, still screaming.

It was to this that Sasuke arrived.

"What the hell happened to him?" He asked, forgetting his plan to pretend to be mad at Kakashi for making them so late.

"Gaara said something to Naruto. She took offense to it. They just called the match. But there's good news!" Sakura said cheerfully.

"What? What good news?"

"Well, you were disqualified, obviously. But the Hokage decided that an exhibition match between you and the tournament winner would be acceptable!"

Sasuke looked down into the arena, where Naruto was sniffing at one of the hands she'd torn off the Sand ninja. He knew the answer, but he had to ask.

"Naruto won the whole thing?"

"Yup!"

The Last Uchiha moved up the stairs and into a nearby supply cabinet. The next thing Sakura knew, there was a tidal surge of profanity, muffled, pouring out from behind the door.

Approximately two minutes later, the door opened and Sasuke came back out.

"Well," he said after clearing his throat, "This should be interesting… Sakura."

"Yes, Sasuke?" She asked sweetly.

"If I should die, burn the magazines under my mattress, please." That said, he made his way down to the arena, to meet his fate.


	14. Chapter 14 To An End

I had a dream about a much different end to Naruto.

 _The Epilogue_

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha lay side by side, in the wasteland of a battleground that they had created. It had been a long, hard fought battle, a measure of one another's belief in their own way of doing things.

By the barest of margins, just barely staying on his feet a few seconds longer, Naruto won.

Now, suffering injuries, blood loss and Chakra exhaustion, he lay staring at the sky. Next to him, Sasuke was silent, but had a look of peace on his face.

Naruto felt… conflicted. He had won, the nations were at peace. The Kyuubi was gone. He could feel it. More, it was what he _didn't_ feel.

The constant burn, subtle though it was. Energy, hyperactive and always present, forcing him to always be on the move. A bubble of hate incarnate that was a constant reminder of what he had sealed inside of him for his whole life. It had soothed, very minutely, over the last few weeks, but not completely.

None of that was present. The Kyuubi, Kurama, was… dead.

"Naruto-" Sasuke started, but was interrupted. The young man in question began to glow with the red burning chakra of the beast sealed inside of him, lifting into the air. In only a few seconds he dissolved into nothing, seemingly devoured by the bubble of malignant energy that still churned and boiled.

 _Another Place_

Naruto looked up at Kurama, confused, but happy. Sadness was also there, but he had never let that control him before.

"Am I dead, too?"

"No," the great fox smiled at him, "But I am. And that is why we are here."

"What's happening?" The blonde teen asked, starting to reach out for the fox.

"When I was young, the Sage of the Six Paths told me that I would meet his successor. It would be a person like no other, strong in character, body and mind. It was my duty to help and guide him. After the first hundred or so years, I began to lose hope. By the time the second century rolled around, humans started practicing with seals. Using them, they imprisoned and killed some lesser demons. I feared dying before I could follow the Sage's advice. So, I made a contingency."

Naruto was paying the Kyuubi rapt attention, not daring to utter a sound.

"I placed a seal on my soul, Naruto. If ever I were to die, it would activate. It's purpose was to create a new Kyuubi, a new Nine Tailed Fox, out of the nearest living creature. I recorded a message, telling my inheritor about the purpose that was given to me, and left it that way for nearly a thousand years. Just a few weeks ago, I realized that _you_ are the Successor of the Six Paths. I rewrote the message into what you hear now," even as he spoke, Naruto noticed that Kurama was fading, "You will do many great things, Naruto. You've already done so much, but you aren't even fully grown. The longer you live, the more good you will do. And so, I allowed this to happen. You, the Successor of the Six Paths, shall have the might and wisdom of the Kyuubi no Youko, just as I promised the Sage," only the creature's head was left, and it was smiling at the teen, sad yet content, "There is one thing above all that I have learned, Naruto. Do not be afraid to love. I was, and came to know only hate. Goodbye… my friend."

Teary eyed, Naruto accepted the power into himself. He swore that he would help _everyone_ , in honor of Kurama and the Sage of the Six Paths. Not just Konoha, but everywhere.

He felt his body change, become more than it was. He faded slowly back into the world of the living.

 _The Living World_

For Sasuke, only a few seconds had passed. Naruto had dissolved, leaving behind the red chakra. A small bubble of yellow formed and began to fuse with the red, becoming orange. In only a few seconds it formed into Naruto once more.

The teenager dropped to the ground, the glow slowly fading, but leaving something behind. _Nine_ somethings, actually.

"What was that?" Sasuke asked, clutching his missing arm.

Naruto was looking at his hands, "Kurama died. I… I _inherited_ everything he was." Nine orange tails fanned out behind him. He felt the weight of Kurama's knowledge, just waiting in the wings for his perusal.

"Wha-"

"Come on," the blonde shook away the emotions that didn't matter just then, and pulled Sasuke to his feet by his remaining arm, healing him as much as he could while doing it, "There are a lot of people waiting for us, back home. You're coming back this time, if I have to tie you up and drag you along like a sack of potatoes." His smile took what meager heat there was out of the words.

"Naruto," Sasuke sighed, turning his head away. He tried to think of what to say, how to explain how no one would want him back.

"Sakura is waiting for you," the other teen said lowly, still smiling, "And Hinata for me. I'm not going back until you do. You really want to make both of them cry?"

Sasuke shook his head. He felt his mouth twitching upwards, a small smile, an honest smile, forming for the first time in years. He shook his head again, and turned to look at Naruto. This was his brother, the only man that he would ever love. Itachi may have been his hero, and the devil that haunted his nightmares, but it was Naruto that made him feel like he could have hope for a better future. It was Naruto he didn't want to disappoint.

And he had quite a few years to make up for.

"Yeah," he said finally, "Let's go home."

 _Konoha, Years Later_

Naruto watched with the purest joy as Hinata was made Hokage. He was in the crowd, holding their children on his shoulders. They were cheering and clapping as she accepted the hat. He was hooting and hollering as well.

It had been a shock, to everyone aside from Sasuke, when he refused to take the job. It had been his dream since so young, it was inconceivable that he would turn it down.

"I'm not fit for the position, not anymore," he said with confidence, "I'm… well, I'm immortal. We can't have an immortal leader." There were arguments for him to take it anyway, but he still refused, "No, Hinata will be Hokage. She will do better than any of us. Sasuke, Sakura and I have been working with her for years. She is more than ready for this."

Now, with Bolt and Himawari on his shoulders, he knew he made the right decision. His tails wagged, showing his real joy for her. He knew, no matter what may come, that she would hold the title with the grace and power that it deserved. Honestly, Naruto didn't think he would be able to balance the workload _and_ having a family all that well. He would probably end up relying on Shadow Clones to spend time with his family. That would be unacceptable.

Hinata, though? Hinata would stop the village cold, just to make time for their children. They would not have an absentee mother. More, she would not allow the village to stagnate, trying to keep to the old ways. Having lived in her clan for so long, she knew the value of change.

"You'll lead us to some interesting places, Hinata," he said softly, still smiling up at the woman, "Come on, you two," Naruto addressed the kids, "Let's go meet mom in her new office."

"Yeah!" Bolt cheered, and Himawari nodded emphatically.

Sixty years later, Hinata Uzumaki would die of natural causes. Naruto's children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren would mourn with him. He stayed at home for a solid week, just reminiscing about all the time he had spent with his wife.

Hinata's reign had lead to many a great changes, just as he thought. Perhaps the strangest, and best, change was the removal of the Kage system.

His wife was the Last Hokage. She helped end the Era of Ninja, by making them obsolete. With the help of Naruto, and the other Kage, they created a council, containing elected officials, from all the countries. They weren't the strongest people, but they were specifically chosen for the job.

Kages were not completely gone, nor ninja, but the mercenary role they filled had been removed. Starting with the Village Hidden in the Leaves, their military stopped being privatized. The change was small, and yet massive.

They retained the various ranks- Gennin, Chuunin, Special and Elite Jounin- but a new rank was added. Kage. By the time Hinata had passed, there were four Kages in the Leaf. Not acting as Supreme Leaders, merely generals.

And the jobs had remained the same for each rank, but their pay was made into an hourly wage, or salary, with pay increases based on rank. In short, they were really an army, not a force of assassins for hire.

For the last thirty years it had been running perfectly fine without his input.

"I think," Naruto said one night at the family dinner, "That I will go on a walk. I'll be back, someday," he moved around the room after that, hugging each member of his family, "Goodbye."

He used the power he contained to overcharge the Transformation Technique, making it permanent. His hair had become red, like his mother's and he kept his whisker marks, but decided to use a face that more closely resembled his father, mixed with a bit of Shikamaru.

Naruto would have taken a new name, but no transformation could hide his tails, so there really was no point. He traveled the Elemental Countries for forty years, helping who he could, when he could. He had stopped a civil war, staged a rebellion against a tyrannical leader, and finally got around to finishing the Rasengan.

Eventually, he made it back to Konoha, and was reinstated into their military. Another ten years there and he found love once more.

Nina Inuzuka was her name. She didn't care that he was the Kyuubi, or a Sage, she just loved him. With her, he had three children. Their first born they named after the matriarch from his time, Tsume. The twins they named Rika and Taichi. Considering the mischief the two of them could get up to, Naruto nicknamed them Des and Troy.

Nina died at the age of seventy two, but had given him so many good memories that he could hardly think about her without a smile on his face. He remembered the words she had said to him on her deathbed.

"You should try being a woman for a couple centuries," she had smiled weakly at him, "Might give you a new perspective. Hell, have a couple kids," Nina laughed at the idea of her husband walking around, pregnant.

"You know," he kissed her aged, wrinkled hand, "I just might do that." She died, two hours later.

Again, Naruto mourned for a week, then approached the Mayor. That was a change that was made during his forty years away.

He told the man that he was leaving again. He then changed into a woman, right in front of the Mayor.

"If the village ever needs me again," she said, "Tell them to look for Uyoku, in the Land of Waves."

Uyoku spent sixty years in the Land of Waves, quietly mastering new Taijutsu. Of course, that name had fallen out of favor nearly eighty years ago. The people called the physical combat forms Martial Arts, now. It made her smile, thinking about it. The world was in such a state of peace, give or take a few assholes who tried to wage wars, that even fighting was deemed an art.

Every time a practitioner would stroll into town, she would learn from them, then spend time dedicated to mastering it. It helped, being able to create her Shadow Clones. It was something she wished she'd abused the ever loving hell out of when she was still a child.

And she did not leave her mastery over Chakra behind, either. Creating Chakra constructs, matching, or exceeding, that of the Tsusano-o armor created by the Mangekyo Sharingan was hardly a challenge for the woman.

One day, a man in green fatigues approached the little hut she had made for herself in a far off corner of the island nation. On the front of his uniform was a very familiar leaf emblem.

When Uyoku came out to greet him, he took an odd stance. Spine rigid, chin slightly elevated, feet together, and then he snapped his right hand up to shade his eyes, with his bicep pointing straight out from his shoulder.

She tilted her head curiously for a moment before realizing that he was saluting her. Weird way to do it, certainly, but flattering, nonetheless.

"Uyoku Uzumaki?" The man asked.

"Yes. And who are you?"

"I'm Second Corp Chuunin, Sato Arimaki," he introduced himself, "The Village of the Leaf has need of you, again."

She blinked at him, "In what capacity? I've kept an ear to the ground, there are a few spats going on between the Grass Republic and some of the bigger nations, but Konoha is at peace."

The man, Sato, frowned in confusion for a moment, "Right, Konohagakure. We are no longer a _hidden_ village, ma'am. While we could always use more soldiers, the Mayor has requested we seek you out as a teacher."

"Really?" Uyoku said, lifting a single eyebrow at him.

"Yes, ma'am. A History teacher, to be specific."

The current Kyuubi and Grand Sage considered the man and his words. The request intrigued her.

"I'll pack my things."

 _Forty years later_

"...And that's how I came to be your teacher," she said to the class of ten year old children. Uyoku had been delighted to discover that they had done away with the child soldier program that had been the Konoha Ninja Academy. Now it was just a regular school, even if their P.E. class taught them to run up walls and stand on water.

"Kyuubi-sensei!" A little boy stood up, his hand held high.

"Yes, Mister Umino?" She smiled at the descendant of her father figure.

"Is it true that you can catch bullets? Even from a machine gun?!" The look of wonder in his eyes reminded her of herself, back when she would think of rescuing princesses using flashy, explosive techniques.

"Yes, and yes, Mister Umino. If you are a diligent practitioner, you can train yourself to catch bullets. It is much better form, however, to dodge."

"Um, Kyuubi-sensei?" A rather solemn girl stood up, raising her hand.

"Yes, Miss Nara?"

"How did you handle it? Losing Hinata and Nina, I mean. My grandma just…" she sniffled, "It just hurts so much, not having my grandma here. How can you stand it, with your wives?"

For a moment, Uyoku thought about how to answer that one.

"When you think of your grandma, do you remember the good times?" she asked.

The little girl nodded.

"Good, don't lose that. Remember her, all of her, the good and the bad. One day you'll realize that you still miss her, still love her, but it won't stop you from moving forward. Two of the happiest days of my life were when I married Hinata and Nina. Two of the saddest were when they passed. When I think about them, I remember all the times we'd sit together, hold each other and bring children into the world. I also remember every time we'd fight and each time they were sick, and fretting every time they had to be out doing something dangerous.

"I look back on all those things and smile because even the bad parts mean I had someone that I loved enough to remember all of it. You are sad right now because you miss her, and nothing can replace her. One day, you'll have children and grandchildren, and you will realize that loving your grandma doesn't stop you from loving them."

There was clapping from the door. The class turned to look and Uyoku had a big smile on her face as she saw her husband, Kamina Yamanaka.

"That was very well said," he spoke.

"Thank you," she nodded to him, then turned to her class, "Mister Umino, how about a demonstration of my ability to catch bullets. That might be a wonderful end to today's classes."

The kids all cheered and she lead them all outside and to the courtyard.

"You show off," Kamina said with no real heat as he checked his weapon to make sure it was ready to fire.

"You just don't want to get all hot and bothered in front of a bunch of kids, once you see how awesome your wife is," she whispered back to him. He just shook his head with a grin.

Uyoku took a stance, her feet spread shoulder width apart. She breathed in once, held it, then released slowly as she brought her hands before her, her right far forward of her left, but her palms open.

Kamina took a moment more to make sure she was ready. Then he opened fire with his fully automatic gun. It was the latest model, able to shoot out a hundred rounds a minute.

Uyoku's hands moved so fast through the air that the sleeves of her kimono snapped and cracked like a whip. After her husband had fully emptied the chamber of it's bullets she relaxed her stance, and let the bullets she'd collected fall to the ground.

For a moment there was silence, then the class began to clap and cheer. The woman let her tails fan her, to help cool off, and brushed some imaginary dirt off her shoulder.

"That was awesome!" was the general consensus of her class.

"Just remember," she started loudly, getting them to all calm down, "Just remember, anyone can do what I just did, if you remain dedicated. The entire world lays before you. Your past, your history, are there to help you shape the future to come. You can allow yourself to be swallowed by it, or choose to grab life by the horns and push back. The future is yours, never forget that."

Two months later, Uyoku would find out that she was pregnant with her first child with Kamina. When their baby boy was born, named after Iruka, she swore he would be the last. They ended up having four more.

For the following thousand years, Naruto would switch back and forth between himself and Uyoku, forgoing the red hair unless he planned on staying in the Village of the Leaf. Sometimes, he found love and married and had children. Sometimes she would go for nearly a century and a half without even having a date. No matter what, he kept the memories of those he loved close to his heart.

And after nearly a thousand years, he had found a face he never thought he'd see again. It was his first wife, Hinata. The same hair and eyes, the same body and scent. Most of all, it was her smile. Small and shy, but brighter than any other in the room.

They had met in a local coffee shop in the sprawling City of Fire, that had once been the Village Hidden in the Leaves, and had been chatting for little more than twenty minutes. This reincarnation told him that her name was Megumi.

He wished they could have talked for days, years, but his Cell phone alerted him to a case at the hospital that required his direct intervention. He stood up, grabbing his coat and donning it, careful of his ever present tails.

"I'm sorry, Megumi, but I really do have to go. Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Oh, no, I am leaving for the City of Spring for business this evening," she said, visibly saddened by the thought of not speaking to the man everyone knew as the Immortal Ninetailed Sage.

"Oh," Naruto's shoulders slumped, but then he smiled a kind smile at her, "Perhaps we'll meet again, in the future. The pleasure was mine," he took her hand and kissed the back, "I assure you." She blushed and nodded at him, but her smile was back. Nodding to himself, Naruto left.

Hands in his pockets, he walked at a steady, if slightly slow pace down the sidewalk. He knew that he might never see her again. He might never again be lucky enough to see the face of his first wife, his first true _love_ , in another thousand years. He was letting her go because… because he would never want to hold her back. Clearly Megumi was excited to go. Whatever she was doing there, it was worth it to her. What kind of man would he be, if he asked her to give it all up so he could live a life of nostalgia with her?

He smiled, freely and genuinely, remembering the look of happiness on Hinata's face when she was named Hokage. He almost laughed, remembering the look of shock on the faces of Nina's fresh recruits when they found out she outranked him. He remembered the look of joy on Kamina's face, each time he held one of their children, just after being born.

If working in the City of Spring would do that for Megumi, he would never stand in her way.

A hand grasped his arm and he turned around to find Megumi panting and flushed, obviously having run to catch up with him.

"Megumi, what-"

"Listen," she said, a stern look on her face, "I just met you, and this is crazy," she pulled a small note pad out of her cream colored winter coat and wrote something on it before ripping out the page and handing it to him, "but here's my number," he took the note, a smile blossoming on his face, "So, call me, maybe?"

+-99999909

A/N: I added in that last part, simply because I could.

For a more comprehensive timeline: Naruto was sixteen when he became the new Kyuubi. We'll call that Year One. At thirty one, Year Fifteen, Hinata became Hokage. At Year Seventy Five, Hinata died of old age. At Year One Hundred Fifteen, Naruto Came back to the village. Year One Hundred Twenty Five, he married Nina. Year One Hundred Sixty Seven, Nina died. Year Two Hundred Twenty Seven, Naruto, as Uyoku come back to the village. Year Two Hundred Fifty Nine, Uyoku martries Kamina. Year Three Hundred Twelve, Kamina dies. Year One Thousand Two Hundred Seventy Seven, Naruto meets Megumi.


	15. Chapter 15 Weekend Warrior

I've not yet decided if this will be a crossover, but I think it will be interesting.

The idea? What if Jaune Arc, from the age of twelve, trained? Not to be a Huntsman, or a Hero, or even a Criminal, just as a way to pass time. Just as a hobby.

 _The Hobbyist_

"You should give up," Jaune's father said, perhaps a little cruelly. He didn't mean to hurt the boy's feelings, but he also didn't want to see his only son hurt, pursuing his dream of being a hero. "The stories about heroes don't tell you about the struggles and hardships they had to face."

"Oh, I know," the twelve year old said, swinging his practice sword for the fifty third time, "I want to be a hero, but I don't really think I'm cut out for it."

"What?" His father asked, confused.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that I'm not strong enough for it, ya know? I like comics and videogames, and _pretending_ to be a hero. I'm not dedicated enough to actually _be_ a hero," he switched the sword into his left hand and started swinging again.

"Then why are you practicing?" Gol Arc asked Jaune.

"I'm considering it an investment!" his statement was punctuated by another swing and a thrust.

"Please do explain."

The boy finally stopped, breathing hard and leaning on the practice sword, "In X-Ray and Vav, how often do any of those really pretty girls go for the rolly polly wimp who can't even lift up a couch?"

Gol barked a laugh, understanding dawning, "I see where you're going. You'll want to start each session with a jog around the property. It'll burn calories and get your blood flowing for the rest of it."

Jaune looked up at his dad, a smile on his face. Their relationship improved from that day forward. Knowing that his son was just training as a hobby was a relief. Of course, he didn't just take his son's word on it. Gol paid careful attention to each of his training sessions. The boy never gave it his all. Not really. He went through the motions, kept to the routine, built the muscle, but it really was just a hobby.

That was never more apparent to the man than when he caught his son practicing a flashy, jumping, spinning attack that served no purpose other than looking cool. It was right out of the X-Ray and Vav comics. It took him several weeks, but the boy perfected the move.

And Gol had to smile. It was just like his boy to do that. The attack would never work in a real fight. The vector was all wrong for a powerful blow and even a slicing weapon wouldn't have much luck at penetration. It did look cool, though.

And things continued like that for two years. Gol would give Jaune small, harmless pieces of advice, just making sure he didn't hurt himself, and Jaune would practice a few times a week, more when he was doing some move he saw in a cartoon or comic book. It _did_ do wonders for his physique, too. Even at just fourteen, he was starting to garner some attention from the opposite sex.

Then, one day, Jaune came home from school, steaming mad. He didn't greet his family, he just dropped his backpack, picked up his training sword and shield and went into the yard to practice. The boy practiced harder than he ever had before. He released a battlecry at the end of each combo. By the end of it he was barely on his feet, drenched in sweat and breathing hard.

"What was that about?" His mother asked.

Jaune sighed and sat down, grabbing his water bottle and taking a slow drag.

"There was a guy at school today," he grumbled, "A total jerk. He keeps picking on people. I was the target today. We were playing dodgeball."

"Ah," his mother sighed and nodded, "I understand. So what will you do now? Go back to school and beat him up for being a jerk? Prove you're better at his game than him?" It was a trap. Wanting to fight bad guys was all well and good. Hurting kids for being young and dumb should be dissuaded. "If so, you should give up now. A real hero would know it's not okay to beat up a child."

"Yeah, I know," Jaune said, not even a moment's hesitation or thought given to it, "And even if I did do something about him, I'd more likely get in trouble for it than solve the situation. I figure I'll weather him out. Either the teachers will notice, or he'll get bored. Until then, I'll come home, beat up my shadow and read comics."

His mother, Tannis, was surprised, and very pleased by his answer. It was actually rather calm for someone who had just spent an hour screaming at the air.

Maybe that was exactly why he was calm. He'd worked out his aggression, and productively at that.

Still, just like her husband, she'd keep an eye on him. The last thing she wanted was for her sweet boy to become a bully himself.

Over the next month, Jaune would come home a couple of times a week and practice more rigorously than normal. Tannis would ask him what happened, but he'd just say that the boy, Nylo, was being a jerk and work himself to exhaustion. It all came to a head at the beginning of the second month.

Jaune came home with a black, swollen eye and a smile on his face.

"Oh my word, Jaune!" His mother said as the whole family rushed out to meet him, "What happened?" Then she narrowed her eyes, "Did you fight that boy?"

"Nope!" jaune chirped cheerily, "I got a better score than him on the English test. He tried to get me to give my paper to him so he could tell his mom he got the best score. I said no. He punched me," the grin widened, "And Principal Monty saw the whole thing! Nylo is suspended for a week!" then Jaune held up his test paper, showing the one hundred percent he'd gotten on it.

"Good job, Jaune!" His sister, Sapphron told him with a big grin, "Did you know the principal was there?" If he had, that was pretty damn sly for her little brother.

"Nope!" He chirped again. That got a chuckle from his family. Jaune was clearly the same goofy kid he'd always been.

Another year passed and Jaune's form started to pack on lithe, corded muscle. He was one of the most physically fit in his year and a nightmare for the school coaches. They wanted him for their various sports programs, but Jaune just wasn't interested.

"I'm just not that dedicated, Mister Brannigan," he said when he had been asked, "I'm just a hobbyist."

It had gone like that for a while. Jaune hadn't had much more bullying to deal with. He was getting too big, too confident for the usual teasing. He hadn't realized it, but he had gained a reputation.

He was quiet, did his work, and usually ate lunch on his own. He wasn't super social and never asked any of the pretty girls out on dates, never joined a team, and quietly excelled in PE. When the teachers gave out criticism on homework, he was never chosen for it. Word started going around that he was a super strong Huntsman in training, and that even the teachers were scared of him.

Not that the teen noticed, with his nose more often buried in his comics, or game manuals.

It didn't help that, just as he turned sixteen, he was challenged to a fight by a transfer student. The kid was marking his territory, showing everyone his place in the food chain. Everyone _knew_ Arc was the toughest guy on campus. The kid, name of Kuro, had watched him for a few days and decided he wasn't that tough.

"I'm calling you out, Arc!" He said once the lunchroom was filled.

The cafeteria went silent. All eyes were on Jaune. The blonde in question looked up from the latest issue of X-Ray and Vav, confused.

"What?"

"The names Kuro," the other teen told him, "And from now on I run this place. Only thing is, some of these weaklings," he sneered at their classmates, "Think I need to beat you to do it. So, here we are. I'm gonna kick your ass, with everyone watching."

Jaune frowned at the boy, slowly lifting one eyebrow, "Are you for real?" He closed his comic and stowed it, then leaned back in his seat, "No, seriously, is Violet pulling a prank?"

"Your slut sister ain't got nothing to do with it," Kuro sneered again. He smirked when he saw Jaune stiffen.

"You shouldn't say that about Violet," he warned in monotone.

"Oh yeah?" The other teen knocked his tray off the table, allowing him to lean in real close, "What are you gonna do about it?"

Jaune shrugged, "Nothing," Kuro almost growled, clenching one fist to punch Jaune before he continued, "Vi is gonna put ya in traction, though."

Even as he said it, a dainty hand grabbed Kuro by the face and a blonde girl a year younger than Jaune proceeded to smash him into the floor hard enough to cause the cement to crack.

"Huh. This guy is a Prep reject. Got his Aura unlocked," Violet Arc spoke, noticing that she hadn't killed him yet, due to his Huntsman Preparatory training.

He groaned, starting to lift himself back up and Violet stomped on his back then kicked him in the head, knocking him clean out.

"Oh, snap," one of the other kids intoned, "Think he's dead?"

"Nah," Jaune said overhearing them, "But he'll wish he was tomorrow." Jaune meant that the young man would be suffering quite the headache, and a nasty bruise on his back. The students assumed that he was gonna make the boy wish he was dead. It didn't help that Jaune put the kid over his shoulder and walked off.

He intended to bring Kuro to the nurse. As far as they knew he was being taken to where ever Jaune hung out to be tortured.

Kuro did not come back to school the next day. Nor the day after that. A week went by and he finally limped back into school, bandages covering most of his head and one of his eyes. His left arm was in a cast, his right leg had been broken in multiple places, making him awkwardly use his crutch one handed.

He hobbled over to Jaune, bowed as low as he could and apologized.

"I am deeply sorry for my insult to your family. It will not happen again."

"Good," Jaune said, then went back to his comic book. Kuro blinked his good eye, then hobbled away, the silent crowd parting before him as they turned to stare at Jaune.

"You _do not_ fuck with an Arc," one whispered and practically the whole school agreed.

Of course none of them knew that Jaune had very little to do with Kuro's injuries. The boy had come to the Arc home, intent on challenging Jaune again. He had made the mistake of raising his hand to the youngest Arc daughter.

Jaune had been about to draw his practice sword when Tannis appeared, grabbed the boy by his ear and dragged him home, where she explained to his mother what he had done. Kuro's mother decided then and there he needed more extensive training and took him into the woods for a week. Who knew what happened after that.

For Jaune, aside from that brief encounter with Kuro, the year passed by peacefully. He'd even had brief, but fun relationship with a student librarian who loved X-ray and Vav as much as he did.

At least, it was peaceful until three days before summer break.

"My name is Professor Peter Port," a slightly rotund man of greying hair and fabulous mustache said with some dramatic flare, "And this is my friend and colleague, Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck. We are here today to see if any of you would like to, or have the potential to, be Huntsmen or Huntresses!"

Almost as one, the entire gymnasium turned to look at Jaune and Violet Arc.

Jaune had been paying rapt attention to the Huntsmen, still idolizing them despite his belief that he could never be one. This gave him a unique vantage as every eye in the room turned to him.

"What?" He asked, clueless.

Port chuckled and said, "Apparently, your peers believe you have what it takes to be a Huntsman, my boy!"

Jaune smiled but shook his head, "In my dreams. No way am I good enough to be one."

Port just smiled at him, "Would you, then, like to see where you stand against one?"

The Arc son took a long moment to think that over, then shrugged and stood up, "Why not? Just don't break me, okay?" He smiled nervously.

Oobleck, ignored that however. Instead he was examining the lad. He had a loose fitting hoodie and blue jeans on, but even through them, he could see the thick muscles on the teen's frame.

"Are you trained in hand to hand, mister…"

"Oh, Jaune Arc, nice to meet you," he shook the hands of both Huntsman, "And yes and no? I can't fight so well without a sword and shield, but I'm just a hobbyist. I only train a couple hours a day, after school."

"I see," Oobleck said.

"Well, fear not, lad!" Port said boisterously, "They may not be exactly what you are used to, but we came prepared with practice weapons, in all shapes and sizes!" Even as he said that, Doctor Oobleck seemed to disappear in a blur, then came back with a large chest on wheels. Inside the chest was a sizeable collection of wooden weapons with wrapped leather handles. The slightly rotund Huntsman picked up a wooden hammer.

Jaune picked up a short sword with a decent weight and a round shield.

"So," he said, turning to the man, "I've never actually sparred with anyone before, are there any rules I should know of?"

"Just do your best, my boy," he held the hammer loosely, "Doctor Oobleck will give us the signal to begin."

Jaune nodded taking the only ready stance he knew.

Oobleck slashed his hand through the air in front of the two and shouted, "Begin!"

Three hours later, Jaune and Violet Arc made it home. Jaune had a pensive look on his face. Violet was vibrating as she ran up to their parents and older sisters.

"Jaune beat up a Huntsman and got offered a spot at Beacon!" she practically yelled at them.

"What?!" Six pairs of eyes darted over to Jaune. He hadn't noticed them, though, staring at the letter of recommendation in his hand. Both Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck had signed off on it after they had seen his grades.

"Jaune!" His father's voice finally cut across his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Jaune, you fought a Huntsman?" Gol asked sternly.

"Oh, um, yeah," seeing the looks he was getting he moved on to say, "They were visiting the school today, a recruitment drive, I guess," he shrugged, "They asked if anyone wanted to spar, to see what a fully trained Huntsman was capable of. I really wanted to see that. It would be cool, ya know? But no one stepped up. Instead, they were all staring at me."

His parents just stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I figured, why not? They were making a demonstration, not an… _example_ , ya know?" He received a nod, then said, "So, I agreed to a spar, and, well…"

Rather than explain, Jaune pulled out his scroll, a hand me down from his eldest sister, and pulled up a video one of his classmates had taken of the spar.

" _Hope this guy knows what he's doin',_ " the amateur videographer could be heard to say, " _You_ do not _fuck with Arc._ "

Again, his parents and siblings looked at the teen in question. He shrugged, shaking his head. He was just as confused as them.

Back in the video, the fight started and Jaune began it very defensively. The shield was held tight against his left side, his body turned that way to face the Huntsman. His wooden sword was held against the shield and the young man did not even blink.

He moved forward just a little, jabbing with the sword, probing the older man's defenses. The Huntsman knocked his sword aside smoothly, hooked the hammer on Jaune's shield and attempted to pull him off balance.

Instead, the teen allowed himself to be pulled forward, adding his own momentum to it. Pulling his sword back under his control, he struck at the wrist holding the hammer.

Port disengaged a second too late and, were it not for his Aura, might have been forced to drop his weapon. It still left him just the slightest bit numb.

And Jaune didn't wait for him to retaliate. The teen shoved the shield forward, under the arm with the hammer and pressed upward as hard as he could.

Now, truthfully, Port could have just stopped the boy from moving his arm at all, but he was curious what came next. Thus, he let the boy send his arm upward.

The blond then slashed at him three times in quick succession. The Huntsman was quite impressed. But it was time for a counter. He brought the hammer back, then down and forward. He did so with some speed and a fair bit of power, but nothing that Jaune shouldn't be able to anticipate and block. The intention was to knock the boy back and then disarm him.

He did not expect the Arc to plant one foot on the hammer and use the Huntsman's swing to launch him into the air.

Jaune flew up and back, pulling his sword and shield in tight to his body and spinning horizontally. He thrust his limbs out, stopping the spin just before he hit the ground, allowing him to land softly, sword and shield ready.

The teen didn't bother with another probing attack. He just charged back in, shield leading.

Port hooked the hammer into the side of the shield, wrenching it away from Jaune's midsection. This left him open to several respectably fast thrusts from Jaune's sword.

By the time his hammer was in position again, and so was the teen's shield.

From there, the Huntsman upped his speed to match what he'd seen of the boy, and it became quite the stalemate.

Until Jaune decided to do something foolish.

Jaune kept his eyes on, not his enemy's face, but his chest stomach and shoulders. From there, theoretically, he could see every attack begin. He saw it as every attack was preceded with a step forward. It gave him a wicked and, probably dumb, Idea.

Port grabbed the hammer with both hands and tried to step into his next attack.

The moment Jaune saw the man moving his shoulders for the swing he dashed in, dropped into a baseball slide, purposely kicking the man's right foot back. The wooden floor of the gymnasium was smoothe enough that Jaune was able to come up behind Port, swinging at his knees, sending the Huntsman tumbling forward. He moved forward while the man was down and placed the tip of his word against the back of the man's head.

"Yield?" He asked.

Port had frozen when he felt the wooden sword at his head, then, to the camera, it could be seen as he frowned for a moment, then started to shake, then burst out laughing.

"Marvelous! Simply marvelous!" Port said happily, "I yield!" He stood up when Jaune pulled the blade, turned around and pat him on the back, almost causing the teen to stumble. The image then twirled around to the face of the Videographer.

" _I repeat, you_ DO NOT _fuck with Arc!_ "

Back in the Arc household, once again every eye was on Jaune.

"They, um, they gave me a letter of recommendation," he held it up.

Silently, his father took the letter, reading it over, paying close attention to the details about the Academy, then to the two signatures.

"I don't get it, though," the teen said, almost to himself, "Professor Port was clearly holding back. I never could have _really_ won that fight. So, why?"

He felt so… confused.

"Because…" his mother said, meeting his father's eyes briefly, "The point wasn't to win, Jaune. He didn't want to beat you into paste, he wanted to test you. Did you have the skill, the will, or the intelligence to be a Huntsman. The Strength can come later."

"And by beating him, even while he was holding back," his father continued, "you've proven that the only thing you lack, to be a Huntsman trainee, is Aura."

"But I'm just a hobbyist!" he protested, though he couldn't figure out why he was against it, "I was just keeping fit!"

"And you are," Tannis spoke again, "Look at you," she gestured to his scroll, "Fit enough to be a trainee, certainly."

"No way," Jaune shook his head again, "No, I'm not dedicated to it. I just practice in my spare time."

"You've practiced five days a week for the last three years. Either you have a ton of spare time, or you're more dedicated than you think you are."

Jaune shook his head, backing away from them. He wasn't worthy of being a Huntsman, a hero. He was just a kid with big dreams and a comic book collection and lots of hours of training. He shook his head harder. He couldn't be a hero. His dad told him not to. His mom told him not to. His sisters, his teachers, his classmates. Being a hero wasn't meant for someone like him.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up into his dad's face, confused. For once, he really didn't know what to do.

"Jaune," Gol said solemnly, "This… this isn't our choice to make. I didn't see it then. I just wanted to keep you safe. I thought, if I could keep you out of the fighting, away from the grimm and the bad guys, you could be happy. Maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong. I don't know. All I know is I've done wrong by you, by taking away that choice, and I'm not going to do it again," He placed his other hand on his son's other shoulder and held his gaze for a moment, "You aren't a hero, Jaune. But I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you can become one. Whatever your decision, I'll support you."

Jaune looked past his dad to his mother and sisters. His mother nodded, subtly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she did. His sisters just gave him a thumbs up.

Jaune met his father's gaze again, realizing that the colossal height that had separated them when he was child had dwindled to only a few inches in the last couple of years.

He made a choice.

And as the Bullhead lifted over Vale, bringing the new Huntsman and Huntress trainees to beacon, his severe motion sickness had him regretting every step he'd taken away from home in the last three months. He was seriously going to have to get that blonde girl something nice, as an apology for her boots.


	16. Chapter 16 Cat Scratch Fever Plus Bonus

_Part Four, The Cat's Meow_

"Hey, Sasuke," Naruto waved him over, "I had a really cool idea."

"What?" The prodigy asked the monster.

"Yeah, I got it from watching Shika's fight against this wind girl. Anyways, know how you can't use your Shiny Eyes on me?"

" _Sharingan_ ," he corrected, "And yes, I am aware of this fact."

"Well, what if you used it on my shadow?" She smiled at him, showing her fangs, and he shuddered.

"That has got to be the dumbest thing you've ever come up with," Sasuke drawled.

"Yeah, yeah, are ya gonna try it?"

"Sure," he shrugged. He felt rather relaxed, considering it felt like he was walking into the jaws of death. Maybe that was the reason. His revenge was unimportant. Konoha was unimportant. _He_ was unimportant. If he died, very little in the world would change.

Looking into Naruto's eyes that day, months ago, had revealed the truth of his place on the food chain. Looking at the sky, waiting for the match to begin, he understood his place in the _universe_.

In the infirmary, Gaara was thrashing about, screaming and shouting. Medics tried to restrain him, but his defensive sand was going haywire, attacking everything. His arms were still leaking blood.

"Begin!" The Jounin jumped away.

Sasuke activated his Sharingan while looking at the ground, then slowly traced it along the contours of the arena floor until he found Naruto's shadow. Unlike his expectation, his eyes stayed active.

"Naruto, run back and forth," he commanded, "Start slow, but go faster with each lap until I raise my arm. Okay?"

The demon shrugged and began to run from one wall to the other, gaining speed as she went.

From the perspective of the audience, the two of them chatted for a bit, then Naruto started running back and forth. It was really odd.

"The hell is going on?" Ino asked.

Sakura observed Naruto, as much as she could, what with the girl going so incredibly fast. Then she switched her gaze to Sasuke. She almost gasped.

"His Sharingan is active!"

"Yeah, so what? He probably needs it, just to see Naruto, at this point."

"No," Sakura shook her head, "You don't understand. The Sharingan doesn't work on Naruto. It always turns off when Sasuke or Sensei use it on her."

"What?!" Ino yelped.

At about that time, Naruto was running back and forth fast enough to create consecutive sonic booms. The audience had to cover their ears.

Finally Sasuke held up his hand and Naruto skidded to a halt, digging deep trenches in the ground with her claws.

"Okay," Sasuke said, "The shadow thing works. Care for another couple tests?"

"Yeah!" The monster readily agreed.

The prodigy closed his eyes, but kept his Sharingan active. Slowly, through his eyelids, he began to look for Naruto. He found her, easily, and the Sharingan remained active.

He grinned.

"Naruto," he slid into his stance, eyes still closed, "I can see you." He saw the Chakra echo of her grinning and crouching down.

Back in the infirmary, Gaara's screams began to die out. He wasn't calming down, by any measure. No, he was bleeding out. His sand lashing about made it impossible to get to him. They could only watch as he died of blood loss.

In the arena, the crowd were once more awed as Naruto and Sasuke exchanged blows. Ideally, Sasuke stayed in place, allowing Naruto to come to him. It was against his nature, being so passive, but while he could see Naruto's outline, he couldn't see any of the obstacles in the arena.

Still, the cat demon was happy to oblige him. She would dash in, trade blows with her teammate, then dash off again. It was like… well, it was like playing with a particularly hyperactive cat.

It continued to go well, for a time. Something changed, however, when Sasuke landed a hard hit on Naruto.

She twirled away from him, holding her face, and a low growl filled the air.

"Naruto-"

The boy was cut off when an oppressive force filled the arena and pressed down on the prodigy. His eyes turned off and he had to open them to see anything. He did so just in time to see Naruto disappear and feel something wet splash down on his left side. There were screams from the audience, but that only served to confuse him further.

As sudden as it had come, the oppressive force was gone. Naruto appeared in front of him, panicked and fretting.

"Oh my god, Sasuke! I'm so sorry! I know I always call you a bastard, and stuff, but, I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you! It just kinda happened and-"

Sasuke held up a hand, stopping her, "What are you talking about?"

"Sasuke, your face!" She said loudly, "It's on fire!"

The boy frowned. That couldn't be right. He didn't feel like he was on fire. Naruto pulled a mirror out of her pocket and showed him.

Indeed. He was on fire. Four lines of orange fire were searing across his face, each flame coming from a deep gouge, a scratch, that could only have come from Naruto's claws. Worst of all, the top most flame had spread into his eye, and had consumed the whole thing.

But still he felt no pain. Hell, he could still see through that eye.

"It figures," he grumped to her, "Only you would end up having orange fire come from your attacks." He would have said more, asking why in the world she had a mirror, but about that time, things outside of the arena started happening.

First was an explosion and cloud of smoke from the Kage box, and a large black and purple box popping up on the stadium roof. Second was a genjutsu that put all of the civilians and a few Gennin to sleep. Third was the appearance of dozens of foreign ninja who started attacking.

Perhaps the most obvious thing to happen was a high pitched voice, screeching out, " _ **I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEE!**_ " Followed by the emergence of a giant monstrosity of sand.

"Okay, what the fuck is that?"

"Um, I think that's Goro," Naruto said.

"What?" Sasuke looked to the demon, completely confused.

"Yeah, I can see him, stickin' out of that thing's head. See?" She pointed up at the dot on top of the thing's head.

"One, his name is Gaara. Two, I can _not_ see him. I couldn't see him if my Sharingan was active. Three," he turned around and stabbed a ninja that had a musical note on his headband, "We should do something about these guys."

"But what about Gary?"

Even as she said that, a humongous toad with a massive pipe in it's mouth landed on the beast of sand. Naruto could make out the form of the Pervy Sage, slamming a seal into Gaara's stomach, and the sand very quickly started to dissolve in a lifeless lump.

Giant snakes started breaking through the walls and the white haired man moved off to deal with them.

"Huh, guess that old pervert has some uses afterall," Naruto intoned then crouched down, "I wanna check on 'Nata."

"Naruto, wait-"

Too late. She was gone.

"Son of a bitch!" Sasuke barked out. The flames on the side of his face surged, growing larger and brighter. They snuffed out without warning and the only marks that he had been on fire in the first place were the four puckered scars where he'd been scratched and his now orange eye.

He turned to attack the few ninjas that had invaded the arena, but was interrupted by the appearance of several Leaf Jounin.

"Uchiha-san," one said, turning to him, "We believe you are a priority target for abduction. Report to your Jounin instructor for the duration of this… scuffle."

He grumbled to himself, but nodded. He looked up at the stadium seats, wondering how the cat monster was going to protect the Hyuuga heiress. What would she do?

"Probably something dumb."

Naruto practically teleported next to Hinata. The shy girl gave a meep of shock, but then smiled at the cat girl.

"Naruto!" She said as loudly as she dared. The smaller girl was incredibly tempted to throw herself into the arms of her girlfriend, but her training won out and she kept an eye on the enemies around her.

Naruto glanced around for a moment. Then, with no decorum whatsoever, she pulled Hinata into an embrace.

"Are you alright, 'Nata?" she asked, sounding quite worried for the other girl.

"I-I am fine. A little… fatigued, but fine," the blue haired girl was blushing quite heavily, but things were certainly looking up, now.

"Alright," Naruto nodded, then let her go and turned to face the enemies that had swarmed the stadium and bleachers, "Want me to kill 'em?"

"No," Hinata shook her head, "Not all of them, at least. We will need some for interrogation, I think."

Temari and Kankuro looked at one another, then threw down their weapons before the catgirl could move, shouting, "We surrender!"

"Well, that makes this simple," she looked at some of the ninja with the musical note headbands, "Any of you guys want to do this the easy way?" Not a one moved to disarm themselves. "Guess we do this the _real_ easy way."

The monster moved. Men died. Two lived, at Naruto's will. She looked over to Kurenai and nodded towards the living ninja. 

That done she walked back over to Hinata and hugged her again, "I was really worried about you." 

"Thank you, Naruto-kun," Hinata kissed the side of The catgirl's head, then said, "But I fear your help is needed elsewhere. Lord Hokage, I think, could use your assistance."

Naruto pulled back, nodded, then smiled at her girlfriend, "Alright. I'll be right back, 'Nata." She traced a finger along the girl's jaw, gave her a smile and a wink. She then moved over to the edge of the spectator area and jumped to the roof.

Once there, she noticed one of the ANBU rolling on the ground, trying to put out the black and purple flames that seared away at him.

"What's up with that?" Naruto asked.

"It is a result of this barrier," one of them said, "we tried a water technique, but it failed to put out the flames, and none of us have dared to touch the barrier again.

The monster hummed, then stepped to the barrier. She frowned for a moment, touching one claw to the energy field before her. It tried to set her alight, but failed to do so.

"Tingles…" she mumbled then turned back to the ANBU, "I think I can open it up for a moment."

"More than we need," the Captain, denoted by his black mask, assured her.

Naruto took a deep breath, then slashed at the barrier with her claws at the same time as she dashed forward. There was a massive explosion of orange and purple fire. Orange quickly won dominance. A hole opened and two full squads of ANBU streaked into the Barrier.

The Sound Four did not pay attention to that, however.

"What the actual fuck?" One of the four people holding up the seal shouted.

"Language!" Another warned.

"Fuck you, fat ass! A fucking catgirl just opened up our 'impenetrable' barrier like it was an instant ramen packet! Asking 'what the fuck' is actually very appropriate!"

"About that," Naruto said, stepping towards the corner where the girl was at, "Surrender, or die," she flexed her bright orange claws, "We both know I can reach you."

Tayuya glared over her shoulder at the catgirl. She had to admit, the girl had scared her with being able to break through the barrier so easily. But she still had a few cards up her sleeve. Not limited to, but certainly including, the Cursed Seal.

"Try it bitch!" She began activating her seal.

"Hey, that stuff looks like the scribbles on Sasuke. Kinda cool," the blonde shrugged, "Anyway, if I kill just one of you, will the cube go away? Or do I have to get all of you?"

"Give it your best shot, cat-bitch!"

There was another small explosion, and Naruto's arm was three quarters of the way through the shield, her hand going through the redhead's skull. The entire barrier cube flickered and faded.

"Guess one was enough," Naruto said.

Orochimaru, who had been easily fighting off the ANBU, but no longer having the time to attack Sarutobi, who kept him from killing the elite ninjas, growled as the cube faded. It was all that cat monster's fault. It was time to put her out of his misery.

Taking the Kusanagi in hand, Orochimaru stabbed the distracted girl through the chest, saying, "You might be a threat, if I let you live."

"That fucking hurts!" Naruto roared, grasping the front of the blade with her bare hands. The acid that was her blood sizzled and hissed and corroded the blade in seconds. She turned around, glaring at him, holding her chest with a rapidly closing hole with one hand and the remnants of the Kusanagi in the other. So great was her rage at the pain of her wound that her claws ended up shattering the blade.

"The risk I took was calculated," Orochimaru said, looking at the melted sword and the certainly not dead cat demon in front of him, "I find I am surprisingly bad at math."

The blonde monster pounced and the Sage of Snakes hoped to all the things he held dear that he was fast enough with his replacement technique to get away.

"Blech!" Naruto grunted, shaking out her paws, "Mud Clone. Bastard! I got your scent now, fucker! You won't get away twice!" she shouted this over the city, sure that he heard her. She had to get back to Hinata, after making sure she didn't have any lingering blood anywhere on her. Didn't want to melt the sweetest girl she'd ever met, after all.

Behind the fuming catgirl, the ANBU had easily subdued the remaining three members of the Sound Four, with the help of Sarutobi and his Summons, Enma. They would be taken for interrogation.

"I can't believe you let him get away," Sasuke chided the catgirl.

"I must agree, after the speed you showed in the arena, I'm very surprised," Sakura said next.

"Screw you guys," Naruto pouted, crossing her arms and looking away from them, "I had a hole in my chest! What's your excuse?"

"We're human?" Sakura half asked.

"More than forty years of experience granting him at least half as much agility as you normally have," was Sasuke's response.

"Uchiha-san was also in protective custody, Naruto-kun," Hinata told her paramour, starting to scratch her ears in just the _right_ way. Naruto's mood, soured by Orochimaru's escape and her stay in the makeshift hospital being used in place of the one destroyed by Shukaku, began to rapidly improve.

"'Nata," Naruto literally purred, "Your hands are freaking magic."

The girl turned red and Sasuke almost smirked as he said, "Come, Sakura. Let's leave these lovebirds alone."

"You better," the blonde almost groaned, leaning into Hinata more insistently, "Only I get to see what comes next." She gave the boy a saucy wink. The Last Uchiha just shook his head and rolled his eyes. He grabbed Sakura by the arm and began dragging her away.

"But-but-" the pinkette protested, "Demon mating rituals have never been documented! This could make waves all throughout both scientific and occult communities!"

"Sakura," the boy grunted at her, "They're twelve. And they're in a glorified tent with an IV drip. I seriously doubt they will be consummating their relationship here and now."

"Go ahead," Naruto drawled, almost asleep from Hinata's continued ministrations, "Ruin my fun." She was out, but certainly not cold, as she snuggled with the purple haired girl, whose face was red as a tomato.

Jiraiya, sitting outside and behind the tent, repressed a chuckle. He'd tell the monster about the search for Tsunade tomorrow. He certainly couldn't wait for the two to meet. It would be explosive.

+-909

 **A/N: So, I kinda feel like this installment of the Nekomata Naruto simulation was a little short. I have decided to add a little scene I thought of a while ago, but really couldn't make work, even so abbreviated. Please enjoy.**

I do not own My Hero Academia.

Writing this because I like seeing the villains get destroyed by good guys. Happily Ever After for the win.

 _The Cat and The Girl_

"Why is it so noisy out here?" Came a tired voice from the trees. A young, pretty woman stumbled forth, wiping at the corners of her eyes and wearing adorable ducky pajamas.

"Oh, hell," Mandalay despaired, "You need to run!" She turned to the lizard man she was fighting.

"What are you talking about?" He sneered at her.

"Her name is Hinata Uzumaki, and she is the single most dangerous human on the planet, but- No, you idiot!"

The man in the dark glasses ran at the sleepy young woman, a massive grin on his face.

Without even looking, the young woman struck him. Her arm lashed out once, twice, twenty, two hundred, _two thousand_ times. Maybe more. By the time the man passed her, his body was already twisting itself painfully, though not lethally, into a pretzel.

"Seriously," the dark haired woman grumbled, "And why are you wielding such a ridiculous sword?" She looked at Spinner.

With her eyes fully open, it appeared that she was blind, with her nearly white eyes.

"Did you say," the lizard gulped, "Hinata Uzumaki? The woman that taught Stain the Way of the Ninja?"

"Oh?" She smiled at the green man, "Are you a friend of Chi-chan?" She smoothed back her hair, "How is that slacker doing?"

"Slacker?" Spinner grunted.

"Oh, yes, the boy was always going on about 'impossible this', 'impossible that' and that endless nonsense about killing heroes. The only thing that does is galvanize people against his way of thinking. Sure, some idiots fall in line, but even more will strive to be better heroes… hmm, I wonder if that's what he was actually trying to go for. Hello, Mandalay," she waved at the woman, "How have you been?"

"I'm good, mostly," she glared at the two villains that she and Tiger had been fighting, "But, uh, where is Naruto?"

"Naru-kun said she could smell blood on the wind and went to go find the source. She should be back with the corpse in-"

There was a whistle, then a thump, and a _real_ catgirl stood in a crater, juggling a severed head.

The head in question had belonged to a villain that had been in a black straight jacket, and his teeth were all broken, misshapen or missing.

"Nata," the catgirl said, "what's going on? Why was some idiot with blood on his breath attacking some kids?"

"Oh, I do believe they are villains, Naru-kun."

"Hmm," she looked at the lizard man, "You woke me from my nap, Scales."

"Hmmph! So, you're just another pair of arrogant fake heroes. I'll-" suddenly Naruto was in his face, holding both of his arms.

"Who said I was a hero?" She asked as she broke his ridiculous bladed weapon with her tail, "I am an eldritch demon of divine balance. Entropy and creation given a face and libido. If you don't get the hell out of my territory I'm gonna rip your arm off and pull your guts out through the stump."


	17. Chapter 17 One Good Spell

I do not own Diablo. I do not own Dark Souls.

This Simulation was brought on be a simple idea. What if a Diablo Style Wizard was put into Dark Souls Three? Of course, I wouldn't pick just any wizard, I would choose my favorite, my most powerful. I would choose Ellishara.

And unless you've had the unique experience of playing with me, specifically, that name should mean nothing to you, so don't worry. Just know that Ellie was a titan. Got all the way up to Torment Seven with her before I botched a Greater Rift and she died.

Now, please Enjoy.

 _The Wizard_

When Ellishara woke up in a graveyard, she knew something had gone wrong.

For one, she was relatively certain that she hadn't died. Last she remembered, she had gone to sleep at the inn she had been passing by. She supposed it was possible that an assassin had come in and killed her while she slept, but that left two questions.

How had they overcome her monstrous regeneration? Why had they left her with all of her gear? Seriously, they hadn't even taken any of her gems.

Standing up, she looked around for any clue as to her appearance here. Weapons in hand she started to follow the path out.

Barely twenty steps from the grave she woke up in, Ellie saw an undead stalking towards her, rusted sword in hand. Never one to underestimate a foe, she immediately activated her Storm Armor, Familiar and Magic Weapon Spells. The price on her mana pool was restored faster than she could spend it. Then, she channeled a Disintegrate through the In-geom, her favored sword.

The metallic hum of the spell lasted only a second and there was nothing left of the undead.

"Alright," she intoned, stepping forward once more. There were barely a half dozen more undead, three of them were killed by her Storm Armor when they attempted to fire crossbows.

She barely blinked at the bleak scenery laid out before her from the cliffside. She ignored the ashes of a long since dead bonfire. She destroyed another dozen or so undead. Finally, she found herself in an enclosed area, a huge man with a sword through his chest in the very center.

The gate beyond him was closed and Ellie had a pretty good feeling of what she'd need to do to get it open.

She walked over to the man, and could hear just the faintest trace of breath going in and out of his lungs. She took hold of the sword and slowly yanked it out. Almost immediately, the man came to life.

Ellie teleported out of his reach and started up another Disintegrate. The man lasted only a moment longer than the other undead, owing to his transformation.

"What the hell is going on?" She asked no one in particular, "The creatures here are far too weak."

"That," said a feminine voice from the slowly opening door and a woman with a silver cover on her eyes stepped into the arena, "is because this is not your world."

"Then I must know why I am not in my world," Ellie told the woman, stalking forward, "You will tell me. Do not presume that death will save you from my inquiry."

"There is no need for threats," the woman said calmly, "I will answer all your questions."

"A wise choice."

"This way, please," the woman led her to a shrine at the top of a hill, "I am the Fire Keeper. A maiden whose duty it is to kind the flame and ash, and send forth warriors into this bleak world. I send them out to bring back the Lords of Cinder, that we might end this time of strife. All have failed. I begged the gods for a champion capable of this task. They sent you."

Ellie just shrugged at the end of it all. Where do I go and who do I kill? Will I be sent back to my world when this is done? I was in the middle of an important quest, after all."

"More important than the future of an entire world?" The Fire Keeper asked, lips down turned.

"For you, no. For me, yes." Ellie didn't even bother looking up as she said this. She was busy using the tip of a legendary weapon to make sure her nails remained immaculate. Nothing quite cut one's fingernails like a magically sharp blade.

The Fire Keeper proceeded to tell her the last known locations of the Lords of Cinder, then how to get to Lothric.

"Simply place that sword into the fire. You will be able to travel between that and any other bonfire you light in your journey," she said with some solemnity, "Along the way, you will collect the souls of those you fell-"

"What?! I most certainly will not!" She stuck her nose in the air and continued, "I am a _Wizard!_ I deal in spells, charms, the destruction of entire armies and the occasional delicious muffin. _Necromancers_ fiddle with souls."

"It is a currency here," the woman tried to explain.

"If your merchants do not take gold for their wares then I have little wish to deal with them. I am only _half_ demon. I will not lower myself to _full_." She didn't wait for a response from the silver haired woman. She jabbed the sword into the fire and was gone after a brief screen of smoke.

"We're doomed," the Fire Keeper sighed.

Thirty minutes later, she returned with the ashes of the High King of Lothric. Widely believed to be the most powerful of the five, with many powerful minions, a pair of dragons, and his brother to contend with beforehand, yet there she stood with a burlap sack full of kingly ash.

"How-?"

"He was closest," Ellie shrugged then walked back to the fire. Another hour and she returned with the ashes of the Watchers of the Abyss. Another hour and she had the remains of Aldritch the Eater of Gods.

Finally, her wanderings took her into the chamber of Yorm the Giant.

"Oh, he's a big one," Ellie hefted her sword, "I've seen bigger."

Yorm roared at her. Ellishara activated her ultimate spell. The sword turned into a bright mist, her body became a shifting view of the universe, she floated two feet off the ground.

The transformation caused an explosion. That small explosion knocked Yorm off his titanic feet. She then held her hands before her and channeled a spell that resembled Disintegrate. In truth, she called it the Universe Spike, and it had all the energy equivalent of a blackhole's relatavistic jet. Very few things stood in the path of this red, yellow and black spike of power and continued existing. Not even Diablo itself had lasted more than a minute.

To say that it killed Yorm is like saying a lightning bolt is made of electricity. Technically true, but in no way does it encompass the full weight of the matter.

"Oops," Ellie said, after her Archon Form had receded, "I suppose it was a bit much to expect better from him than the others." She looked around, made sure no one was there to see, and scraped a little bit of random ash into a sack, "Eh, Ash is Ash. It'll work itself out, I'm sure."

As she handed the bag to the Fire Keeper, she did warn her, "I am not fully certain that those are the ashes of the giant. I am, however, one hundred percent certain that he is dead."

The maiden looked at the bag, such as she could, then up at the woman that had handed them to her.

"That will suffice. Now, with all the lords gathered," she set the Ash on Yorm's throne, "You must once more travel through the fire. It will take you to its core, where you fight the spirit of the first flame. There, you will have a choice. You either extinguish the flame, descend the world into darkness eternal, but end this cycle of life and unlife. Of growth and fire and ash. Or you let it continue into eternity, becoming the arbiter of the suffering and conflict for millions of others after you."

Ellie, no, _Ellishara Von Cilie_ , Wizard grandmaster of her world, looked the Fire Keeper in the eye and said, "Mortals, whether they know or not, are creatures of balance. From the lowliest worm to your Lords of Cinder, all serve a purpose in the balance. You _may_ say that this world is suffering incarnate, but it is your weak _sentiment_ that has made it this way. Conflict breeds suffering, death, despair, defeat," she admitted, but continued, "Victory, elation, advancement and evolution. To deny another that chance is the true crime here."

For the final time, Ellie traveled through the flame. She met again the tall man with the spear. He was faster and stronger this time, and was not infested with magic rats.

She underestimated him. His opening move was a lightning fast jab with his massive spear. It pierced her stomach, one side to the next. He man creature lifted her into the air at the end of the pain was… tolerable. She clutched the haft and glared at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, the pain," she hefted her sword and pointed it at him, "The _pain!_ " Her Disintegrate lasted half a second longer than her first encounter with him. The damage to her body and clothing were healed before her feet met the ground.

Soon afterward, she found out that she was in the distant past.

It mattered little. When she met, finally, the spirit of the First Flame she activated all of her enhancement spells, then her Archon Form, and was surrounded by constant explosions as she used her Universe Spike.

Overkill doesn't even begin to cover it. The First Flame then reached out with the tendrils of its power to try and trap Ellie in its thrall.

"I think not," she simply moved away, unwilling to be taken in by it. Instead it reached through the many bonfires she'd lit in her short time there and found a suitable host.

"Good. Now," she growled at the body forming in the flame, "Send me home."

The figure froze, and she could feel its fear. It thrust one arm to the side and a portal to another world opened. It didn't look like her world, but Ellie shrugged. Perhaps this one would be more interesting than the last.

She found herself stepping into the sickroom of a hospital. On the gurney nearby, lay a person half turned into a werewolf of some variety.

"Oh, a new face," an old man's voice said, wheeling himself over, "Let me be the first, perhaps the only, to welcome you to Yarhnam."

"Indeed?" Ellie smiled an unkind smile at him, "I smell blood, rot and things the mortal eye does not fully perceive… Who must I kill _this time_ to open a portal home."

The old man, with bandages over his eyes, paused, regarding the woman. This was not a… _new_ Hunter. Different might be a better word.

He smiled to himself and said, "Let me tell you, of the Pale Blood."


	18. Chapter 18 Ballistic Vocabulary

I like the movie _Equilibrium._ A lot.

 _The Gunslinger_

Jaune was holding two, high caliber, semi-automatic pistols, one in each hand. He was standing in the shooting range, his own team, team RWBY and a few other teams at his back.

Looking over his shoulder, he could see Ruby mouthing 'I'm sorry' at him. Just behind her, he could see Cardin Winchester and Russel Thrush taking bets. He could guess it wasn't about how many targets he'd _hit_.

To his surprise, and a small amount of dismay, it looked like Weiss was getting in on the action.

Jaune thought back to how this all started.

It had been less than thirty minutes ago, when Ruby and Weiss had been discussing the various uses and disadvantages of guns, in battles. It was getting kind of… intense.

"Jaune!" Ruby said suddenly, "What do you think would be better? Semi-auto or full, when using a handgun?"

"Oh, please," Weiss drawled, "He barely uses a sword and shield, Ruby. Like he'd know anything about guns."

The blonde boy frowned, letting his tray hit the table between the two of them somewhat loudly.

"Actually, I'm a pretty good shot, back home. I didn't bring a gun here because, really, it seems like the only kinda gun that does more than annoy the Grimm are ship mounted cannons," he said.

"Blasphemy!" Ruby all but shouted, slamming her hands into the table. Weiss glared briefly at Ruby, then at Jaune again.

"She is right," she held up a hand when Ruby opened her mouth to speak, "barely. Guns have proven useful, or Huntsman and Huntresses wouldn't use them."

"Okay, let's think back to initiation," at this point, both teams were listening, "When you used Crescent Rose on the Deathstalker and Nevermore, what happened?"

"They bounced off, but they have-"

"Really tough hides, I know. So do Ursas. Your weapon is really high caliber, and it was only an annoyance, Blake and Ren's weapons wouldn't even do that. No offense, you two," they just shrugged and he continued, "Now, guns work on the smaller and weaker Grimm, like the Beowulves, but you don't use ammo on them, why?"

"Because I can just cut 'em up!" Ruby said proudly. The whole table nodded along, it was common sense, after all.

"So, we have now established that guns don't work on the big ones, and you simply don't use 'em on the small ones. So why do you have them?"

"For Rogue Hunstmen," Pyrrha answered immediately.

"Not really," Jaune shook his head, "it's the same thing, kinda. Even Hunstmen and Huntresses in training can tank shots without too much trouble. They only bother dodging them to preserve aura. Guns are about as useful as throwing rocks, at least, when it comes to the duty of a Huntsman or Huntress."

There was silence for a moment, then Cardin, drawn by their conversation, spoke.

"Yeah, right! Just 'cause you can't shoot straight doesn't mean any of that is true," he crossed his arms.

Jaune frowned and said, "Like I told Weiss. I'm pretty good with guns, they just don't work for Huntsmen."

"Oh yeah?" The large teen grinned, "How 'bout a little demonstration, then?"

"Huh?"

"Yes," Weiss agreed, "I refuse to acknowledge anything you've just said, unless you are willing to prove your supposed adequacy with a gun."

"That hardly seems-"

"Ah, c'mon, Vomit Boy," Yang urged, "What's the harm in showing off a little? Unless you can't." Her grin was challenging.

Jaune looked around and could see all of his friends looking at him expectantly. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Fine, whatever," he shrugged.

Now, here he was, gun in each hand. He took a deep breath, eyes closed, visualizing each shot.

In a flash, he swung up his right hand and fired once. There was a ringing sound and he pressed the button to bring the target in.

There was a hole dead center of the target.

"Good enough?"

"Not hardly," Weiss told him, arms crossed.

"Gah, fine!" He turned to her team leader, "Ruby, please set out all the targets."

The younger girl used her Semblance, activating all the targets on the range. The watchers waited while they all went to the end, and Jaune set up seven clips for the pistols on each side.

Finally, he took another heavy breath.

His hands flew up and gunfire became a constant noise, almost no time between shots except when he stopped and reloaded, each time faster than the last as he brushed the dust off.

After nearly two minutes of firing at the targets, Jaune set the guns down and started pressing the recall buttons in each of the ranges.

All of his observers were shocked to see that every target had a hole, dead center, then each individual target had a shape shot into them with bullet holes. A star, a square, a triangle, and so on, until they came to the very last one, the furthest from his position, which bore a bullet hole smiley face.

"How about _that_? Is that acceptable?" there was silence across the board, then Nora surged to her feet.

"Wooh! That's our fearless leader!" She pumped a fist into the air and hooted again, celebrating his small victory.

Pyrrha, Ruby and Yang were the next to stand to their feet, cheering and clapping. Ren gave him a silent thumbs up and Blake appeared to be studying the target boards.

Weiss and Team CRDL were silent, but their mouths hung open. The rest of the students started cheering with his friends.

"Mister Arc, why have you never demonstrated your ability to use firearms like this?" Glynda Goodwitch asked.

The moment her voice sounded the whole room was silent again. They had not known she was there.

"Oh, uh, hi, Professor," Jaune nervously scratched the back of his head, "Uh, how long were you watching?"

"From the beginning. A crowd of students this large draws attention. I followed to make sure all safety measures were observed. Now," the woman slapped her crop into her free hand, "Why haven't you used firearms in your spars?"

"Well…" once more, the teen explained his reasoning.

"Sound logic, but flawed."

"Ha!" Weiss said, feeling vindicated. She was silenced by a look from Professor Goodwitch.

"What do you mean?" Jaune asked.

"First, are you half as accurate with moving targets?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Better," he said without hesitation.

"Could you shoot my crop, even if I was waving it around?"

"Uh?" Jaune tilted his head to one side, "Maybe? I've never tried anything like that."

"Perhaps it's time you did. I need a volunteer!" She turned back to the rest of the students gathered on the shooting range.

"Eh?!" Jaune had been confused, now he was bordering on fearful. The last thing he needed was another pointless spar, showing everyone how weak he was.

"I volunteer," his feelings of inadequacy did not wane in the slightest when Weiss stood up.

"Good," Professor Goodwitch nodded then turned back to the young man before her, "Mister Arc, equip yourself with those weapons, and prepare for a fight. Your goal will be to disarm Miss Schnee, using only firearms."

"Ah, hell," he groaned.

A little over four minutes later, the two of them were in the arena. Glynda had a stone cold look on her face as she explained the usual rules.

"Miss Schnee, Mister Arc, are you both ready?" They nodded and she stepped out of the ring, "Begin!"

 _Blamblam!_

No one moved. Hell, they hardly breathed. As soon as Goodwitch said begin, Jaune shot Myrtenaster, Weiss' Rapier, and made it just barely tumble out of her hand. A second shot hit the very butt of the sword, sending it into the wall behind her.

"Uh, do I wi-woah!" He was launched into the air by one of her glyphs, and she dashed for her sword. The moment her hand came close, Jaune, still flying through the air, opened fire. Three shots, three hits. Wrist and both knees.

The heiress hit the ground, crying out in pain. Roughly at the same time, so did Jaune, rolling to a stop, just at the edge of the arena. He got back to his feet, checked the aura meters and was surprised by how low Weiss' was.

"Is there something different about these pistols, Professor?"

"What do you mean, Mister Arc?" Goodwitch raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why did they hurt Weiss so much? My dad showed me-" he froze in the middle of his sentence, and glared at his hands for a moment, "Son of a bitch! I forfeit!" He then ran over to Weiss, skidding to a stop, "Weiss, I'm sorry! Please, believe me, I didn't mean to hurt you! My dad, the bastard, he-"

"Arc!" She barked at him.

"Er, yes?"

"I get it. Your father is a callous, manipulative reprobate. So is mine," she narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't even think of using that to try and date me. I only mean that, this," she gestured at the quickly swelling welt on her wrist, "is going to be alright. This was a spar under controlled conditions. I will be fine, and you have proven you have a respectable level of competency in at least one field of the life of a Huntsmen."

"What is it you were saying, Mister Arc?" Professor Goodwitch asked him.

"My dad," he growled out the word, "He doesnt want me to be a Huntsman. The one field I thought I was okay at were these," he flicked the guns, "But he convinced me they were useless by having me shoot him. He tanked a full clip and caught the others.

"He's the reason I don't use them," the last part was a feral growl.

"And that is point number two," the professor began, "The number of Huntsmen and Huntresses that can simply brush off gunfire is miniscule. _I_ could not do such a thing. If you'll think back to it, most of the sparring in my class, the firearms are only used to herd opponents, very rarely do any of them actually shoot at their opponents with the intent to hit them."

"I understand, Professor," Jaune said with all due seriousness.

"Good," she nodded briefly, "That said, I can say with confidence that none of this year's crop have your accuracy, particularly with moving targets. Once a day, you will be _allowed_ to use firearms in my class. We wouldn't want to let your swordsmanship fade. You are finally showing promise."

"I understand," he said seriously. He, of course, gave his awesome partner a look at that praise. She was, without a doubt, to thank for his progress.

That said he turned to Weiss again, who was now standing and trying to pull Myrtenaster from the wall.

He walked over, gripped the handle and pulled it out, with a bit of effort, then handed it to her, hilt first.

"Are we… okay?" He asked nervously.

"Will stop your incessant flirting?"

He sighed, "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Then, yes. We are okay," she took the sword, and pat him on the back as she walked towards the stands.

-909

A/N: I couldn't think of what else to put here, so, once more, here's an extra scene.

I do not own RWBY.

I can't be the only one who noticed this. I can't be the only one who looked at the word choice. Thing is, I haven't seen anyone say word one about it.

I guess I should, then.

 _The Words_

Jaune's face twisted into rage and he turned to look at Oscar, housing the spirit of Ozpin. He started to take a step forward, his hands clenched into fists.

Then he stopped. His hands loosened, but his glare remained.

"Tell me again," he turned back to team RWBY, "Tell me, word for word, what she said. What she told Ozpin. What did he ask? And how did the Jinn respond?"

Ruby blinked, looked to her sister, then said, "He asked how to defeat her, Jinn said she said she can't be."

"No," Weiss shook her head, starting to understand, "No, he asked,'How can _I_ defeat Salem?' And she responded with, ' _You_ can't.'"

Jaune's face lost the frown and he gave a half grin, "Whoo, for a second there, I thought this was hopeless."

"What?" Ruby almost yelped, "She can't be defeated! Jinn said so!"

"No she didn't," the blonde boy said, "She told _Ozpin_ that _he_ couldn't defeat her. I don't know how or why, but the former headmaster can't beat her. One of us, though?" He looked from Ren and Nora to Yang, Blake, Weiss and Ruby, "We won't know until we try."

"But-"

"I think he's right."

It wasn't Weiss, or even Blake who said this. It was Oscar.

"We can all agree that that guy, Ozpin, he's got some issues. I mean, he's hiding from you all because you found out the truth. What I've felt…" he sighed, "Oz is arrogant. He was sent here to end Salem. When he was told he couldn't, he assumed that no one else could, either. Afterall, he was strong and smart and could use magic. Ozpin is immortal. If he can't do it, how can anyone else?" the boy shrugged, "That's what it feels like, at least."


End file.
